


Firefly

by eerielouise



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Florist Harry, Fluff, M/M, Office Party, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerielouise/pseuds/eerielouise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry’s thoughts usually consist of the next wedding he’s providing the flowers for, whether he’ll be able to pay the water bill, and keeping up with the latest episodes of Millionaire Matchmaker. He most certainly did not ask for, nor want a beautiful, Australian demigod to consume every last bit of his mind.</p><p>AU where Harry is an introverted Florist and Louis is an old family friend whom he cannot remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lilies, Jasmine, Daisies, Violets, Roses, her town-famous Christmas arrangement, the ‘Timeless Love’ bouquet that everyone went mad for every 14th of February; Harry was beginning to struggle not to be reminded off his mother each passing second, surrounded by aspects of their time together everywhere he turned, every flower he touched. 

Rainbow rose. Anne had loved shipping in those and decorating the shop depending on the occasion. Orange and red at Halloween. Green and white on St Patrick’s Day. She even bought the red, white and blue roses once or twice. Back in 2012 the entire store had been decorated with them, getting in the Olympics spirit like the rest of Britain was. 

Now Harry sat at the back of the colourful store, sipping on a hot mug of tea and feeling as though he was being watched by the array of red, green and white that was almost suffocating him. It was November, one of the coldest ones England had experienced for a while. Harry often felt like the past few months were all merged into one, ever since his mother’s death. Therefore, he had failed to notice how early the fall of snow had been, since it usually didn’t arrive until way into January, he had also failed to notice the massive rise in his sales, but it didn’t matter to him anyway. 

He stared at a webpage, his eyes locked on the red and white rainbow roses his mother used most Christmases. It took him several minutes to swipe his finger across the track pad and left click on the ‘buy now’ button, having already put in the details of his purchase about twenty minutes beforehand. 

It felt wrong to be carrying on the same routine Anne had, without her cynical voice telling him he was doing it wrong, or that he might as well not bother, since he couldn’t arrange flowers for toffee anyway. 

He wanted to go into interior design, so he guessed he had some form of artistry in him. 

Harry finished off his tea and placed the empty mug next to his laptop, pushing back on the uncomfy metal chair that he was perched on, and rising from the pits of his existence or rather, getting up and walking around the store. 

He had an order to sort out, a funeral to be exact. It was for an 86 year old woman, whose daughter had died in a freak accident. Harry was, like his mother, a people person, but even he wasn’t sure how to cope with the emotions he was going to be feeling tomorrow when he delivered the flowers to the mother, who had outlived her daughter by way more years than she should have. It wasn’t like Harry didn’t attend many funerals, but not many were for middle-aged women with a huge family and a lot to lose, that was a rare death. 

It was a little too familiar, as well. 

He didn’t exactly rush, but he decided that if he wanted the flowers to be ready for early tomorrow morning, he would have to sort them out then. He needed to use his most fresh produce, since using the flowers being delivered the next morning wasn’t an option. He wouldn’t have time. But it wasn’t a problem, he had every flower that the woman had wanted for the arrangements, the casket spray and the large tribute that would read ‘Ellie’ with many different types of flowers due to the Mother’s need to portray her daughter as ‘A Spectrum of Life’. Harry had suggested that they kept the rest of the arrangements to black and white, since the woman had been a concert pianist, and the family fell in love with that idea. 

Business was quiet in the winter months, so Harry didn’t expect to have many customers over the course of the day. He set to work on the funeral in the back room, turning on the radio that was attached to wall many years ago when his mother had decided to bring more life into the shop. She used to set it on to 80’s fm, and greet her customers with a flushed cheeks and messy hair whenever she’d accidently danced around a little too much to Whitney Houston or Bon Jovi. Harry found it too painful to switch back to that channel nowadays, so the radio instead was permanently set to radio one, and rather than prancing to the counter and singing the lyrics to ‘I Think We’re Alone Now’ whenever he heard the jingle above the door, like he did as a child, he would quickly turn it off, scared his customers would be put off by the awful modern day music that blared from those speakers. 

He remembered what his mother used to say about funeral tributes as he stuck the stems onto the wire frame, never using flowers that looked completely different and going for the ones with a similar shape. “They don’t care how expensive the flowers are at funerals, as long as they’re pretty.” She used to say, holding a daisy between her teeth. “I wouldn’t have daisies myself, but a lot of people seem to like them.” 

Harry had remembered that, there wasn’t a single daisy at his Mum’s funeral. 

The tell-tale sound of the bell above the door rang out, its happy tune making Harry smile slightly. He only remembered that it meant he had a customer when footsteps sounded across the wooden floor that had been worn down through the decades that his family had owned the store. Harry could remember when he, his mum and sister used to visit from Cheshire, since his Grandma had been the Florist first. Before her, his great grandparents ran it as an open-all-hours convenience store. It had always belonged to a relative of Harry’s.

“Hello?” A soft voice called out. 

“One moment!” Harry shouted from the back room, careful to place the foliage he had been handling somewhere he would find it when he came back, and turning off the radio that was playing Miley Cyrus’ new single. He left the room, ruffling up his hair on the way to the counter since he probably looked as though he had just woken up. “What can I do for you?” He asked, just before he looked up and met eyes with a very handsome man. 

A very handsome sexy member of the male species indeed; he was standing behind Harry’s counter and Harry suddenly found himself in a better mood than he had been all day, and that was hard, considering he had managed to buy some roses at five o clock that morning for a cheaper price than he had paid in the last few months.

“I’m not actually here for flowers, although it is one of the nicest florists I’ve ever entered.” The man laughed. Harry stayed silent, his gaze locked on the man’s jaw, it was chiselled and model-like and Harry didn’t understand how people hadn’t attacked it with kisses, or something.

It looked even better when the man talked, which Harry then realised he wasn’t. 

“Oh, um, thank you. But, what is it then?” He asked, not wanting the man to think he had a hearing problem. 

The man shifted his weight to his left foot, crossing his arms across his chest in a confident manner. “Well, my family used to live in the area and my Mum was a friend of the owner, Anne? But when I was like six we moved to Australia and you know what it’s like, staying in contact with everyone and all that. They emailed a bit and my mum claims she really did try to keep in contact but there were so many people and well yeah... They lost contact. About two years ago she tried to email but it seemed Anne must have changed her address or something. She just wanted me to pop in and let Anne know that she missed her and she would love to start talking again.” 

Gosh, Harry didn’t think he’d heard the word contact so much in such a small space of time before. Plus, what the brunette man with the chiselled jaw was saying didn’t register with Harry for several seconds, as he was practically drooling at the sound of the young guy’s voice, which was an Australian accent that sounded to Harry like the most luxurious flowers that cost lavish amounts of money and he could only afford in peak seasons, covered with creamy chocolate and hazelnut with golden specks of caramel to top it off.

He wondered how he could describe a sound with smells and tastes when the man interrupted his thoughts with an awkward cough. 

“Shit, sorry!” Harry apologised. “I tuned out, and shit, I’m sorry I just sweared – twice.” 

That received a loud laugh from cutie-patootie. “It’s fine.” 

Harry needed to reply to the guy’s query, so he breathed deeply before saying “Actually, you see, I’m Anne’s son, Harry.” He paused for a moment, sighing. “She passed away earlier this year.” 

Hot guy’s facial expression swapped from amusement to shock in an instant. “Oh gosh, I had no idea! I’m so sorry. Oh god, my mum will be gutted, fuck… I’m really sorry.” 

“It’s fine, how could you have known?” Harry said quietly, not wanting the man to feel bad. 

“I know, but still.” He replied, trailing off. The room was very silent then, filled only with the sound of the man’s worried breathing. 

“What is your mum’s name?” Harry asked. 

“Jay Tomlinson.”

Harry recognized the name. Actually, he was fairly certain he had met her when he was a lot younger. He could also remember his Mother having a friend in Australia who she wrote too, but he knew nothing else of it. “It sounds familiar. I think Mum mentioned her once or twice.”

“What happened, to your Mum, I mean?” 

“It was cancer, we found out too late.” Harry mumbled. 

“I’m so sorry.” The man spoke, the lack of surety in his voice giving away how much he didn’t know what to say. 

“It’s not your fault.” Harry told him, smiling weakly. “I’m Harry, again, by the way.”

“Louis.” The man replied. “It’s nice to meet you; despite the circumstances.” 

“Indeed it is.” Harry smiled widely; glad to be off the subject of his Mother. “Louis, I don’t mean to be rude but, I have quite a bit of work to do and if you don’t mind, I mean, it was lovely meeting you but – “

“It’s okay; I have things to do as well. I’ll let you get back to work.” Louis cut him off, turning around swiftly and making his way to the door. “I’m sure I’ll see you again!” He proclaimed before leaving the store, not turning around to see Harry’s small wave or giving him time to say goodbye. 

It took Harry a while to retreat to the back room and begin working once again, his mind a little preoccupied with thoughts of Louis and his perfect face, body and hair. 

Louis was a rather nice name, too. It rolled off the tongue, Harry thought, once he’d turned the radio on and was once again humming lightly to the popular tunes of 2014. 

*

Harry’s sister had always been his favourite person to spend time with, after his Mum. When the two siblings were growing up, the two of them spent most of their days together. The pair got used to being away from their parents, since they lived between their Mum’s and Dad’s houses, but spending time away from one another was a rarity. Wherever Gemma was, Harry was. Consequently they had gained knowledge of each other that Harry believed nobody else would ever come close to understanding. Gemma knew when Harry was lying, when he was upset, when he was hiding something, when he was angry, and vice versa. She understood him. He understood her. 

That was only half the reason that Harry enjoyed his sister’s company though. She was also one of the most cynical people in the universe, and that contrasted brilliantly with Harry’s laid back attitude to the majority of life. 

The shop was often lonely, so he looked forward to the visits from his sister. Usually moaning and annoyed, she would turn up around midday some weekdays with a costa and several cookies. It had become a routine over the past few years, and the visits became more frequent after Anne’s death. Gemma hated the thought of Harry left all alone in the florist, and if it weren’t for her studying she would be sat in the corner every minute of the day. 

Gemma had grown accustomed to the lack of smiling her brother did nowadays. She didn’t like it, but she knew that there was little she could do to change it. She often found herself forcing a happy facial expression herself and it was a fact that her life hadn’t been as affected by her mother’s death as Harry’s. She and Anne had been close, yes, but Harry and Anne were best friends. They hardly had a life outside of one another. When Gemma was out with her friends drinking, Anne and Harry would be snuggled up in front of the T.V, sipping brews and slagging off celebrities. 

Today was a Monday. Harry had texted Gemma and asked if she could watch the store whilst he went and delivered to a wedding on the other side of Manchester. Gemma had happily agreed, wishing she could do things like that more often to help Harry out, and after all, she had nothing else to do beside study.  
She was mopping up the floor when the jingle went from above the door. Harry entered, his cheeked flushed and eyes bright from the cold weather outside. He smiled towards his sister, before making his way to the back room so he could hang up his coat and hat. 

“Hey Gem.” He said as he re-entered the shop. 

Gemma nodded in recognition and returned the mop to the wall, leaning the pole against the rough brick. 

“Would you like a brew?” Harry questioned, knowing she wouldn’t have bothered buying the regular ginger bread latte because it would have gone cold in the time that he was out. 

“I’ll make us one hun.” She told him, smiling warmly and setting off on her next task. 

Harry sat down at his desk and listened as his sister switched on the kettle, followed by the radio. As always, Gemma turned the station back to 80’s fm. It was nostalgic for her, and filled her with jovial memories of early morning starts and sitting in the shop after school. Harry allowed her to do it, but he knew it would be off the moment she left. 

Gemma came through the door, a mug in either hand. Harry accepted the one that she passed to him, as she pulled up the stool that sat by the wall and settled across from Harry.

“So, baby brother, any news?” She asked kindly. She looked hopeful, which Harry found odd, since she asked that question every week and always got a similar answer – someone had died, some people got married, a young lad asked him if he could create a ridiculous amount of bouquets so he could fill his girlfriend’s room for her eighteenth birthday. It was always the same; Harry only dealt in the florist business. 

“Nothing new, really.” He replied, drinking his tea whilst hearing the soft tones of Fleetwood Mac coming from the back room. He wanted to get straight up and rip the radio of the wall, but he knew Gemma would look at him strangely. She didn’t understand that with every song he would be taken back to a younger time. As the lyrics to ‘Everywhere’ filled his ears he could picture Anne with an apron tied tightly round her waist, laughing as an eleven year old Harry pretended to play the keyboard whilst she sang along. 

“You sure? Because I heard from an old friend and he told me he’d come by, and visited you.” Gemma said accusingly, as though Harry should have known to tell her about his short visit from his Mother’s friend’s son. 

“You knew him, Louis, I mean?” Harry pondered. 

“We were around the same age, you were probably too young to remember him visiting our house with Jay.” 

“Oh, I see.” 

Gemma noticed the hint of interest in Harry’s voice straight away, and instantly smirked. “He’s cute, right?”

Harry looked flustered, suddenly becoming much occupied with the cup of tea he held in his right hand. “Gemma, you know I’m not exactly paying attention to guys at the moment.” He said, not making eye contact with his sister. Gemma simply laughed, leaning closer over the desk. 

“Harry, you’re allowed to think he’s cute! And damn, you need a boyfriend. You’ve been single for ages now. Or you could get a girlfriend. I wouldn’t judge if you came out as straight after all this time.” 

Harry looked at her, and she winked at him. He stayed quiet, breaking the eye contact before looking at her once again. She just took a sip of her tea and raised her eyebrows expectantly, her forehead crinkling in exactly the same way their father’s did when he was surprised. 

“Okay, he was gorgeous. Happy?” Harry said. 

Gemma squealed. “I knew it! I could so tell you were hiding something. You like him, don’t you?” 

Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “Gemma he was in here for about ten minutes. I didn’t have time to fall in love with the boy.”

“Yeah but I bet you’ve been thinking of him and his perfectly shaped bottom for the week, am I right?” Gemma asked. “I mean, when he came by my flat I was like oh, well hello, but I then came to the sad realisation that no straight boy knows how to dress that well.” She pouted. 

“He’s gay?” Harry perked up. 

“Ha! Got you, you’re into him. Harry has a crush!” Gemma shouted. Harry whacked his mug down onto the desk, pissed off because, why does Gemma know him so well? She might as well be able to smell his every emotion as well as the flowers. He hated that nothing would ever be a secret when Gemma was around, and that maybe she didn’t put on 80’s fm for her own enjoyment, but in an attempt to help Harry with his grieving process. 

“Look Gemma, we’ll probably never see him again.” 

“Good job I told him to keep in touch isn’t it? You’re hopeless Harry I swear. And anyway, I’m having him round for dinner tomorrow night; would you like to join us? James will be there of course. I assured him that Louis most likely didn’t bat for the same team but you know. He still didn’t want me having dinner with a handsome man alone.”

Harry stayed silent. 

“Don’t be such a spoil sport!” 

“Okay, okay. I’ll come. But please know that I hate you.” 

Gemma finished off her drink and smiled at her brother, leaning over the counter. “You love me.” She said softly before placing a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll get going. I have quite a bit to get done before uni tomorrow. I’ll see you later baby brother.” 

Harry shook his head, exhaling before saying goodbye to his sister. She left without bothering to clean up her mug, knowing Harry was a weird lad, and enjoyed clearing up pots.

Harry got up and retreated to the backroom, standing still for a moment before shoving his hand at the off bottom on the radio, not liking the mocking sound of Freddie Mercury and David Bowie singing Under Pressure in falsetto. He wasn’t feeling under pressure already to find a nice outfit for tomorrow, nor was he feeling completely flustered about whether he should bother attempting a quiff, not at all. 

*

Harry begrudgingly found himself standing outside his sisters flat the next day. He was dressed simply, his favourite band shirt wrapped around his torso and black tight fitted jeans accompanied by his brown boots. His warm denim jacket was tickling the hairs on his jaw; he hadn’t shaved since Saturday. As always, he had brought flowers. He was fully aware it would piss Gemma off. She had a bouquet on every window because heck, she got a discount and was often handed the tulips or roses or carnations that would go to waste otherwise, and they lasted a while, Harry prided himself in good produce. Her abundance of flowers meant Harry always took advantage of her short temper and brought more - it was funny. 

In his other hand he held a bottle of wine. One of the regular customers had bought it him after he did their son’s wedding last month, but Harry didn’t really drink. Sure, he did sometimes end up dancing around the store in the early hours of the morning with a bottle of vodka in his hand and tears running down his face whilst he hastily shouted the lyrics to ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’, mostly when he was feeling alone, yet no one needed to know about those lonely nights. He would swear to even those who knew him well that alcohol didn’t interest him. 

Gemma was at the door in a millisecond once Harry knocked. She was the perfect example of an exhilarated youngster in that moment, her eyes intoxicated and cheeks burning crimson. The apron that was covering her was decorated in specs of red sauce whilst a glass of white wine was attached to her fingers. 

“I see you have brought more wine. Good boy.” She told him, motioning to the bottle he held. “And flowers, how kind of you.” She added flatly. 

She walked away from the door and Harry took that as a sign he was being welcomed inside. He entered and hung up his coat on her cute coat rack that was leaning on the wall due to its broken stand. He was instantly overwhelmed with the smell of chicken and spice, whilst the room was filled with cheers coming from the direction of the television. Gemma’s small flat only had three rooms, the bathroom, bedroom, and then a kitchen, dining room and living room with only a small breakfast bar dividing the areas. 

On the slouchy, green sofa sat James, Gemma’s boyfriend, who was one of the only males Harry could get along with. He was tall, almost as tall as Harry, meaning his limbs and head lolled about the furniture like that of a sloth. James was the perfect match for Gemma and everyone knew it. The two had known one another for their entire lives, meeting in nursery and staying friends way into high school. It was their last year when they finally got together, or rather, realised they were completely in love with one another, and that year was the first time Harry ever caught his sister in the process of – well, performing an intimate act. It happens to be all he can remember about the early days of their relationship. James swiveled around and lent over the back of the sofa, waving at Harry. Harry waved back and walked over to the kitchen counter. 

“Chuck the flowers in the vase by the bedroom window and put them in it would you?” Gemma told him. He obliged, doing as he was told and returning to the kitchen.

“Louis will be here shortly.” Gemma smiled, clearly unaware the edges of her mouth had been coated in the debris of her testing the marinade. 

Harry nodded. Taking an empty glass from one of the cupboards, he poured himself a glass of wine from the bottle that was already open on the counter. He drank it slowly, savouring the bitter sweet taste on his tongue. He and Gemma chatted as she finished off making dinner. She was careful and meticulous, yet Harry spent the majority of the time telling her how much she was doing wrong. It was no different to when they were children and they would bicker over the mixing of cake batter when they helped their Mother out with baking. Sure, Gemma and Harry’s lives had changed drastically, their Mum gone and Dad living so far away he only visited every now and again, but their relationship was still the same. 

It seemed only moments had passed when there was a knock at Gemma’s door. 

Gemma wiggled her eyebrows at Harry and shoved the handle of the wooden spoon she had been using in her mouth before rushing to the door.

“Louis, Welcome!” Gemma greeted the man that now stood in her doorway, her voice muffled. Harry heard a reply in the form of butter would melt Australian accent and almost swooned. James got up from his place in front of the television, switching it off. He knew Harry wouldn’t have been offended by him watching the football but Harry guesses he didn’t want Louis to think he was some kind of rude asshat. 

Gemma took Louis’ coat and placed it by Harry’s on the stand. Louis and James greeted one another, which is when he finally came into Harry’s view, legs perfection personified and all, dressed magnificently in dark grey jeans and converse. 

Could it be possible that Louis had gotten more attractive? Because Harry was sure his level of beauty had increased tenfold since their first meeting. His brown, honey speckled hair was casually styled with a messy downward fringe whilst the stubble on his chin added to the look of Grecian god. Harry felt inferior when this stupendous creature was in the room. 

“Harry it’s nice to see you again.” Louis said lightly, grinning as he approached the younger boy and held out his hand. Harry took it hesitantly, not saying a word as he returned Louis’ friendly smile. Louis span round, holding up the expensive bottle to Gemma. “Where should I dump the alcohol?” 

“Just pop it behind Harry!” She replied chirpily as she retreated to the kitchen, setting back to work on her meal. Louis followed her orders and leaned over Harry to set it down. Harry couldn’t help but notice the strong scent of Calvin Klein aftershave that wafted from Louis’ tanned skin, and would be the first to admit he wanted to sit on Louis and revel in the smell for the next forty years of his life.

“You may as well as sit down at the table. I can serve the starter.” Gemma told the three men that were stationary in her living area. Her table wasn’t much of a table, being hardly tall enough for the chairs and only big enough for four people, but that was amongst the woes of being a student without a well-paid job. When she was finally done with education, Harry predicted Gemma would probably end up rich enough to have a table that sat ten, if she was clever enough with her money. 

Harry, James and Louis just about managed to squeeze around the tiny, circular piece of furniture. Harry was instantly thankful that Louis was next to him. From where he was sat, the aftershave was prominent in the air; Harry could smell it perfectly. 

Gemma had already set out place mats and coasters, and Harry recognised the expensive cutlery she had put out, since it belonged to their Mother. Gemma wandered over with a tray of prawn cocktails, which Harry found ultimately adorable. She was a terrible cook when it came down to it. It was no wonder she had chosen to make the easiest starter in the history of the universe. 

“It’s not much, and I know prawn cocktail is a little Christmassy, but it is almost Christmas.” She said softly as she sat down at the remaining seat between James and Harry.  
“I like prawn cocktail.” Louis assured her. 

Harry nodded, agreeing with Louis, although he didn’t make any eye contact. “It’s nice Gem.” 

“Well you are the world’s harshest food critic so I guess I should be flattered.” Gemma laughed. “Tuck in everyone.” She said, looking around at the other three. They all did as they were told, every one of them munching down on the salad and prawns. 

The four ate for a while, and Gemma made small talk about university, work and whatnot. Harry spent quite a lot of the first course watching the movement of Louis’ lips as he described his new job as personal assistant at a law firm. Harry would reply whenever he was asked a question and unsurprisingly, Louis was the main instigator of those questions. The meant Harry had to force himself to at least try and look upwards as he spoke. But, it was difficult to look into the eyes of such a beautiful being when Harry knew he didn’t even come close to Louis’ level of attractiveness. Every time their eyes met, Harry could imagine the judging thoughts swimming around Louis’ mind. 

Gemma and James grilled Louis on the specifics of his job, why he’d decided to move back to England and how he’d found the first week in his new home. As Gemma served up the main course, Harry’s second glass of wine was poured and he started to feel a little lightheaded. The heavy chicken didn’t seem to be making a difference, and he soon found himself joining in with the conversation even when he wasn’t asked a question. The average volume around the table had raised a substantial amount, more that of drunken friends than sober ones, and Harry was laughing a lot more than usual. His cheeks ached like hell when Louis told them a story about his boarding school days in Australia. 

Harry noticed that most of the glasses on the table were empty, and pointed it out to Gemma. She laughed and excused herself from the table, fetching another bottle of wine from the kitchen. This time it was red, and Harry was filled with dread knowing that as soon as he started on the red wine he’d be a goner. Yet he allowed Gemma to top up his glass nevertheless. 

She then grabbed a little remote from its place in the fruit basket and Harry watched as she used it to turn on the radio that was sitting at the edge of the kitchen counter. Harry, James and Gemma grinned when they recognised the song, memories of Gemma’s 18th birthday and karaoke duets flashing through their minds. It was Promiscuous Girl, and you could see the confusion that crossed Louis’ face when he saw their facial expressions. Harry thought that Louis looked quite cute when he was confused, his nose all scrunched up and eyes all crinkled. However, he hoped to god Louis hadn’t realised he was staring; he was almost analysing the guy’s ever perfect features. 

“I’m sensing there’s a story behind this song.” Louis said, and Harry once again found himself with his eyes locked on the man, watching how he looked around the table expectantly. 

“Your senses are right on. Harry and I sung this when we were extremely drunk at one of my birthday parties a few years ago.” Gemma told him. 

“Ah, I see.” Louis laughed. “What a strange song for a brother and sister.” 

Harry found himself giggling, and quietly spoke up. “As Gemma said, we were pretty damn pissed.” He said in defence, smiling at Louis shyly. “You should have seen the dancing she was doing.” 

“She tried to climb onto my shoulders half way through this exact song, if I remember correctly.” James agreed. “And I think Harry almost gave Gem’s friend a boner. What was his name? Danny or something.” 

Harry blushed, remembering how he danced rather suggestively upon Gemma’s school friend. The dancing, paired with his lousy flirting was what led to one of his first sexual encounters with a member of the same sex. Danny was quite attractive, and he was Gemma’s age, which put an age gap between he and Harry that Harry seemed to dote on at the time. He was the first boy to sleep in Harry’s claustrophobic bed with him, the first boy that Harry saw fully naked and the first boy that Harry ever truly had feelings for. That night, they’d almost stripped each other down in the taxi on the way home, and by the time they got back Harry was almost too far gone to do anything. He allowed Danny to give him a blow job, and returned the favour happily, but practically fell asleep seconds after the act. He was expecting Danny to tell Gemma; they were best friends in every sense of the word. But if Gemma was told, then she never let on to Harry. She had brought plenty of friends back to their home that night, and didn’t seem to notice that Danny wasn’t actually just one of those. 

“Yeah, I still reckon Danny probably wanted to sneak up to your bedroom that night Haz.” Gemma giggled, waving her chicken covered fork at him. “I swear he had a crush on you.” 

Harry laughed nervously, not sure what to say. “Oh, really.” 

“Definitely! After that night whenever he came round the flirting was unbelievable. I’m surprised you never gave in to it.” 

What Gemma didn’t know was that whenever Danny was alone with Harry after that night, he most certainly did ‘give in’ to the flirting. She also didn’t know that after she moved out and Harry stopped seeing her friends, he bumped into Danny on one of his first ever nights out in town. Danny and he had managed a round two that night, and it wasn’t over quite as quickly. 

“I never saw him after your twenty first.” Harry said simply, hoping to change the subject and avoid the possibility Gemma would find out he and Danny were verging on friends with benefits for a good while. 

Harry sighed in relief when Gemma nodded, smiling before asking Louis “Speaking of love lives, how’s yours Louis?” 

Louis’ eyes snapped towards Gemma, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. It appeared he’d been focused on the latter part of Harry, Gemma and James’ conversation and hadn’t realised he was being spoken to. Either that or he was overthinking something. Whatever way it was, Harry noticed how he was completely engrossed in the remaining food on his plate. 

“Um, I actually just got out of a long term relationship. In August, I um, I found them in bed with one of my best friends, in my flat, of all places.” 

Harry was shocked by Louis’ honesty, and wanted to curse him for his ambiguous, gender-neutral terms that gave away little about Louis’ sexuality. Despite Gemma telling him Louis was most definitely not straight, he wanted confirmation. There was no way the most gorgeous person he’d ever laid eyes on had walked into his life, at an extremely good time, and was into men as well. Harry couldn’t phantom how that could be true; it was all too unrealistic. Things like that didn’t happen to Harry. 

“That’s pretty shit mate.” James said. 

Louis shook his hand about “It doesn’t really matter. Chloe, the girl I found him with, had been shagging around for ages, and I’d wanted an excuse to tell her boyfriend, because he was a really nice lad, with a really pretty face that didn’t deserve to be cheated on.” 

Both Gemma and James laughed at that, so Harry joined in, but in actual fact he was trying his best to mask to tremendous glee that was making its way through his every organ, vein, capillary and bone, threatening to burst out of his head coating everyone in the room with its painful happiness. He had a chance. 

He fought the urge to do a celebratory dance or chant, knowing Louis would be even less attracted to him than he probably already was. And Harry did not want that.  
“I see.” Gemma said, moving to remove the now empty plates around the table. 

“Would you like any help, Gem?” Harry asked. Gemma turned around but Harry didn’t allow for his sister to answer before he got up and began collecting the sauces she’d left in the middle of the table. Gemma huffed when she realised Harry was insisting on helping. She’d grown accustomed to his polite ways throughout their lives, and it wasn’t that she minded him being so kind, but sometimes she wished her younger brother would let somebody to do something for him, and not put everyone else first. He deserved as much.  
James and Louis stayed sat at the table. It seemed they had a mutual love for football, because as soon as Gemma and Harry were in the kitchen washing the pots, the two men began an animated talk about teams, players and various other football-based subjects. Harry was realising, as he learnt more and more about Louis, how different the two of them were. From a young age Harry had been completely hopeless at sport, so he’d never been interested in it at all. 

“You know,” Gemma moved closer to Harry, leaning near to his ear. “Louis walked here the same as you, and you both live close.” 

“What are you trying to say?” Harry questioned, the alcohol he’d been drinking meaning he wasn’t quite as quick to figure things out as he usually would be.  
Gemma laughed. “Harry, I’m telling you you pretty much have to walk with him.” 

“Oh.” 

And Gemma was right. An hour later, after several more drinks and cheese and crackers eaten in front of the television, both Louis and Harry had to walk home with one another.  
They left the flat, instantly leaving the laughter and energy of Gemma’s home behind. By this point, Harry was quite drunk, and it was safe to say he knew he would do something in front of Louis to embarrass himself. 

“You live above the shop right?” Louis asked, smiling at Harry. Harry then took notice of how much smaller Louis was than him, yet another reason for Louis not to find him attractive. 

Harry nodded. “Gem and I had lived there with our Mum since we were a lot younger. It’s just me there now.” 

Louis looked down towards the snowy ground. “It’s a cute place.” He said softly. “I’ve moved into a flat just a little further down your road. It’s not much, really. It’s like, in Australia I have four sisters and then there’s my mum and step-dad, and then Mum’s just gone eight months pregnant with twins. So, I had so little room at home that even having my own bedroom in my new flat is like a luxury.” 

Harry let Louis keep talking, melting into the sound of his voice and the way he was so comfortable to tell Harry aspects of his life. Harry was envious of what Louis was describing. It had always been just him, Gemma and Mum and his relationship with his father was practically non-existent since he'd moved away to Kent before Anne’s death. Louis clearly had a lively household back in Australia, and they probably all missed him dearly. Other than Gem, Harry had no one. He didn’t even have many friends since he took over the shop full time and stopped attending college. 

“It feels like I have so much room at this new place, when in reality it’s a tiny bedroom and the rest is hardly anything to shout about. It’s smaller than Gemma’s even.” Louis said a smile evident in his tone of voice. “I bet the shops pretty nice right?” 

“It’s three story.” Harry answered. “So, like, there’s more than enough room for a whole family.” He would have kept talking, but his teeth began to shatter loudly. Harry hadn’t even realised it was so cold out, nor that there was a minuscular amount of snow falling from the sky. It was only when he saw the specs in Louis hair that shone like little diamonds, that he knew it was no longer as warm as it had been earlier on in the night. 

“Are you cold?” Louis asked him, suddenly looking worried. Harry wasn’t sure why, it was only another four minutes and they would be at the shop, yet Louis looked genuinely concerned with Harry’s wellbeing. 

“Not really.” Harry replied, not liking the look on Louis face when it wasn’t his usual, smouldering smile. Louis was too pretty to pout. 

“Here,” Louis said, removing his winter coat – well, more wintery than Harry’s denim jacket – and placing it on Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s cheeks heated up instantly, and he looked to the snow to hide his face from Louis. 

“Thanks.” He said quietly. 

“It’s not a problem Harry.” Louis said kindly. Harry could now see his arms, and although they had been visible at dinner, he hadn’t noticed the pair of amazing biceps that Louis owned. 

“You have sick muscles.” Harry blurted out, before he had a chance to think over it. Louis looked pleasantly surprised, as though he wouldn’t have expected Harry to say such a thing. 

“Thank you, I do take care with my arms.” He said graciously, chuckling slightly. 

“They’re fucking gorgeous.” Harry breathed, before his hand flew up to his mouth, and he giggled – actually giggled. It was the wine talking. 

“Harry, are you flirting with me?” Louis said, raising an eyebrow. 

Harry was jealous of the calm way in which Louis was able to ask the question, but tried his best to be flirtatious as he replied. “What makes you think that Louis?” 

“You’re complimenting my muscles. Isn’t that what girls do?” 

“Maybe.” Harry said simply, noticing they’d arrived in front of his shop. “This is me.” 

Louis looked up at the florist, a sad look taking over his face. “Oh,” 

“Wait.” Harry said, pulling the coat Louis had placed on his body from his shoulders. “Here.” He finished, placing it in Louis awaiting hand. “Thank you for walking me home.”

“No, thank you for walking with me.” Louis replied, grinning at Harry. “Look, I may have gotten the wrong idea. But maybe like next week or something, could I possibly, take you out? Like, you don’t have to come but I would love to see you again, this time just us two you know –“ 

“Louis, I’d love for you to take me out. You didn’t get the wrong idea.” Harry stopped him talking, trying to remain calm. 

“Good, well, I’ll get your number off Gem and text you alright?” Louis said, clearly extremely happy Harry had said yes. “It’s been nice seeing you, Harry.” He stated, his voice sincere. He took Harry’s hand and placed a quick kiss on the flesh there, turning away before Harry had a chance to react. 

“See you soon!” He shouted, but Harry just stood stationary in front of the shop, staring down at his hand in complete and utter shock. Louis kissed his hand. Louis seriously did the whole Prince Charming from the Disney movie thing and kissed his hand. He was flabbergasted.


	2. Chapter 2

For the several days that followed Louis’ impromptu kiss to the hand, and the surprising request that he take Harry out, Harry thoughts consisted mainly of Louis, Louis and basically, more Louis. He found himself thinking of Louis in the shower (not like that, no), remembering Louis’ voice whilst he ate breakfast, imagining flowers in Louis’ hair as he arranged them, questioning what Louis would sound like singing each song that played loudly from his radio’s speakers; it was a never-ending, staggering and unwelcome trail of horrifically, stunning thoughts.

It wasn’t until Wednesday that Harry finally received the much anticipated text. He was grating cheese at the time, preparing it for the cheesy chips he planned to have as an afternoon snack before his employee, Sophie, arrived at the shop. Sophie was fifteen and an old family friend. Her mother had been one of Anne’s best friends, and so she had gotten the job at the florist the minute she asked. Harry enjoyed the young girls company, and with her manning the shop during the busy hours after work got out, Harry always had a chance to sort out business affairs and whatnot.

Anyway, Harry was so preoccupied with his snack that he didn’t even notice the buzz of his phone on the counter, or the ring of the door from downstairs in the shop. Soon though, when Sophie appeared in the kitchen, Harry’s focus shifted.

“I’ll be a moment Harry. I’m bursting for a wee.” Sophie said, without giving Harry a chance to so much as greet her before she sprinted to the toilet. She reappeared a minute later, drying her hands on the front of her hoodie.

“How was school?” Harry asked, smiling at the younger girl before pulling out the newly cooked chips from the oven and decorating them with the cheese.

Sophie shrugged. “School’s school.” She replied softly. “I can’t wait for the Christmas holidays though.”

Harry placed the chips back in the oven, nodding at Sophie. “I can imagine. I remember how excited we all used to get near Christmas break. Like, it’s not just a holiday, it’s also Christmas.”

“No shit Sherlock.” Sophie laughed. “You have a text by the way.”

Harry looked towards the phone she was now holding up, its black screen embellished with a moving green envelope. He took it from Sophie’s hand without thanking her, interested to see who had text him.

It could be anyone, he thought as he tapped in his password. Gemma had only just gotten off the phone to him earlier though, and other than her and Sophie, Harry had very little common texting buddies. Despite the smell of melted cheese that engulfed the kitchen, he didn’t notice Sophie retrieving his chips from the oven. He was too interested in the possibility that the text might just maybe be from the man he had been unable to get off his mind all week.

Shockingly, the text was from a number that Harry didn’t recognise, and of course he instantly guessed it would be Louis, finally texting him as he had promised. He was extremely grateful to find his assumption had been accurate.

'How’s about that date, Harry? I have a free night tonight and was wondering if you would be spontaneous and join me. Louis x'

Harry couldn’t help but grin, unable to make a movement as Louis had actually made an offer to go on a date with him and Harry, no matter how many indications that Louis was into him that he was given, just couldn’t believe it.

Sophie caught on instantaneously, pushing the chips aside and grabbing the phone out of Harry’s hand. Harry acted fast, swiveling around the kitchen counter and trying to grab it back, but Sophie was faster, and managed to run down to the shop and read the text whilst Harry trailed behind, shamefully slower than his female friend.

Sophie giggled as she tapped out a reply to Louis, handing the phone back to Harry once she was finished.

“You’re going.” She told him, a wide smile on her face. “I will watch the shop and close up if I have to. I have told him you’re going and you will.”

Harry groaned. “Sophie I- “

“Harry, it has been too long since you went on a date with anyone. And I like this Louis already. Who is he? Do I know him?”

“He’s Australian. I doubt it.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “I can’t wait to meet him! I bet his accent is dreamy.” She mockingly swooned, dramatically fanning her face.

“The chips!” Harry exclaimed.

“They’re on the side, wait for his reply about details and go choose your outfit for tonight whilst you eat your smelly food. I shall be fine down here alone.”

As if on cue, Harry’s phone vibrated. “That will be him. Now go.”

And it was, Louis had replied to Sophie’s text (which was a little too enthusiastic sounding in Harry’s eyes but whatever) stating he would come round once he’d been home after work. Which wasn’t actually that far away – usually Sophie arrived only about half an hour before most people started to file out of their offices and into town, where many would pile through the doors of the shop and create what Harry liked to call the “rush hour” of flower buying. Therefore, Harry only had an hour or so before Louis Tomlinson would be at his doorstep once again.

An hour to look perfect.

It was as though whenever Harry was seeing Louis all of the nice clothes in his wardrobe disappeared and suddenly, not a single garment was good enough. Despite searching through numerous chests and drawers Harry was sent back to the bedroom several times by Sophie, who commented that his fashion sense clearly deteriorated when a man was in the picture. Finally, she gave him her approval. A flannel and skinny jeans; hardly original, but the closest he could get to looking normal without looking too overdressed.

He then completed the entire pile of mundane tasks that had accumulated over the past week, clean the kitchen worktop, do the washing up, put the washing in the washing machine, iron two shirts and a pair of jeans and clean the fish tank. However, he still found himself back downstairs, serving customers with Sophie forty minutes after rushing upstairs to get ready.

“Is he tall?” Sophie questioned, her short legs propped up on the counter whilst she tapped away on her phone.

Harry giggled, moving away from the display he was arranging and facing Sophie “He’s actually rather small.” He gestured Louis’ height to Sophie. “Like, not that I mind. He’s cute.”

“What was your old secret boyfriend called?” Sophie asked, before speaking up again. “Danny, that’s it. He was taller than you.”

“Danny was taller than everyone.” Harry replied quickly. “I wonder when Louis will arrive?”

“I don’t know Harry, it’s almost half six.”

Both of their heads instantly pivoted towards the doorway when the jingle went, signalling somebody was coming in. Harry felt a nervous bubble of butterflies explode in his stomach as Louis stepped into the shop.

“Oh, hello.” Louis greeted Sophie, who was in his direct line of sight.

“Hey, Louis right?” Sophie smiled. “I’m Sophie. Before you ask, he’s right there.” Sophie pointed towards Harry, who was planted on the opposite side of the room, still by the display on the window. His eyes were glued to Louis.

Louis turned to look at Harry, who was presumably speechless. “Hi Harry.” He said. Did Harry sense a tiny nervous tone to Louis’ voice? Of course he didn’t, that was a ridiculous suggestion.

“Louis,” Harry replied, unable to form a sentence. “Shall I, um, get my coat?”

Louis grinned. “That would be a fab idea.”

Harry scuttled off towards the backroom. There were now even more butterflies in his stomach, and they were going absolutely crazy. He felt as though he was going to throw up, or cry, or both. He pulled on his coat with trepidation, knowing that as soon as he was ready he would have to leave with Louis, and once he had left with Louis there would be no turning back. This was going to be Harry’s first date with a guy he was actually attracted to in over a year. Nervous was an understatement.

“Harry?” Sophie called, sounding confused.

“One moment!” He shouted back. Worried and excited, Harry discarded his reading glasses on the counter and grabbed his dinner watch that had been in the backroom since the dawn of time. His mother had bought him it, and she liked to remind him often how a nice watch helped add to your attractiveness. Harry of course believed that was bullshit, but wore it nevertheless.

He finally re-entered the shop. Louis, whose lips were even more explicitly beautiful than usual, was chatting to Sophie as she served a singular customer. The two seemed to be getting along, and Harry thought it would be a shame to split up their conversation. However, he reminded himself that Louis was here to see him, not Sophie, and that he was being rude by taking so long.

“Sorry, I’m ready to go!” Harry said chirpily, looking towards his date.

Louis’ head snapped upwards, a wide smile adorning his face. “You look so lovely Harry.”

Harry was speechless, trying his best to splutter out a thank you.

“It was great to meet you Sophie.” Louis spoke kindly, his drop-dead accent making Harry and Sophie alike swoon in their respective places in the shop.

Sophie grinned. “And you Louis! Look after Haz for me.” She winked at Harry, who flipped her the bird in response. “I have my key. I will lock up for you later.”

“Thanks Sophie.” Harry replied. He tentatively walked towards Louis, who responded instantly.

“Shall we?” The older man asked. Harry nodded, awestruck by the way Louis’ eyes bore into his own, their cobalt colour with glimmering ultramarine making him feel dizzy.

By Louis’ lead, the two men left the building, stepping out of the wooden warmth and into a flurry of crystal white snow. It wasn’t often that Harry left the shop after sundown, and he was immediately mesmerised by the glittering layer of flurry that was falling recurrently from the bleak, black sky.

Enthusiastic yet very Nervous, Harry followed Louis as he led the two of them through the town. It wasn’t long until Harry recognised where Louis was clearly heading. “The Riverside Trail? Is that where we are going?”

“Mum and I would always walk the dog along there. When I moved back the first thing I asked her on our skype call was where it was. I have loads of memories.”

Harry decided to be upfront. “Louis, you didn’t answer my question.” He said with a speculative smile.

Louis laughed, looking at Harry with admiration. “I’m sorry.” He said, chuckling. “Yes, I was planning on a late night walk. I do believe it’s romantic for our first date, don’t you?”

“I envy your nonchalance.” Harry admitted.

Louis raised his eyebrows. “I’m not usually this laid back. Believe me, I’m freaking out under the cool demeanor I put across.” He whispered, as though he were telling Harry a top secret government missile code. 

Harry looked at Louis, rather surprised. “I don’t believe you.” He spoke, and unlike many a men Louis had spent his time with, Harry was not teasing, nor flirting, he was being honest.

“I never lie, Styles.” Louis replied softly. “Here.”

The two of them had arrived at the timber gate that led onto the woodland trail that both Harry and Louis had visited throughout their lifetimes. Louis allowed Harry to enter first, following quickly behind him and closing the gate.

Harry was instantly thrown back into the late years of the twentieth century, when a younger version of himself, his mother and sister would amble down the same path of which he was now looking at. Harry would be dressed in a cozy raincoat and wellington boots, and his sister would be wearing a matching outfit, however pink, always pink. Their mother always brought the pram, but Harry never used it. He had loved to run ahead of his family, picking at flowers and dandelion puffs in summer, splashing in puddles every season, allowing Gemma to teach him how to do a cartwheel. Then there were the recent times Harry had visited Riverside, when his mother was aware of her condition but still well enough to walk. In those short months, Harry and Anne would close up the shop for the afternoon; profits forgotten, they would walk slowly down the pathway or take long, unadventurous adventures through the overgrown woodland that surrounded the trail. They spent these walks reminiscing about the earlier years, Harry’s primary school days, weddings past and present, anything and everything happy that had occurred during Harry’s lifetime.

“Harry, darling, would you like to carry on?” Louis questioned, sensing sadness in his friend. Harry nodded eagerly at Louis, wanting to make it clear his sudden wave of emotion was not due to him. Hopefully Louis understood somewhat what Harry may have been thinking about, and would know better than to question it.

“There was this field behind my house in Australia,” Louis began as they started their walk “And when it was a clear night, you could lie down on the grass and see every last star in the sky. I mean, I know it wasn’t every star, of course, but when I looked up, the otherwise black emptiness would be completely decorated with shiny dots.”

Harry was lost in Louis description, simply watching the way Louis chose to explain his home in silence.

“I loved the field. It was my favourite place to spend my time from the minute we moved there. I would play there as a kid, and in my teenage years I would take my friends there when we were intoxicated with booze or weed or whatever, and we would spend hours gormlessly looking at the stars like we were Ernest Hemingway or some shit.”

“You often got high?” Harry asked, no accusatory tone to his voice, simply intrigued.

“Oh, I was a stoner in high school. Through and through.” Louis said with a giggle. “Anyway, I thought that when I moved here, being so close to the city, I wouldn’t ever find anywhere like my field. But I did.” He gestured to the area that surrounded them. “I’ve been here almost every night after work. I love it.”

Harry looked up towards the sky. “Do you know any constellations?”

“Oh, no. I mean, I think stars are super pretty and all. But I’ve never studied them.”

Harry pointed upwards, motioning for Louis to look in the direction of his finger. “It’s not majorly clear tonight, but see that up there? It looks like a pan with a handle?”

Louis seemed to squint, halting where he was stood. “I think so. There’s like six or seven stars right?”

“Seven.” Harry agreed. “That’s called ‘The Big Dipper’. It’s part of Ursa Major. Some people say it resembles a bear, but you can’t really see that from the point of view of us brits.”

“Do you know any more?” Louis asked, captivated by Harry’s knowledge.

Harry turned them around slightly, his arm remaining stretched out. “That there is part of the Ursa Minor. It’s a pan with a lid on this time? That’s the little bear. Polaris, the star just there are the end of the handle, revolves about the North celestial pole in radius of like, 1 degree. So it’s super close to it.”

“Wow.” Louis said quietly. “It’s fascinating.”

Glad that Louis appreciated his interest in astronomy, Harry grinned. “I know, I love stars. I mean, I was never interested in science at school because it was only a small part of Physics that we spent studying the stars. If there had been an astronomy A Level, I probably would have never left for college. I wasn’t academic enough, but I would have loved to become an astronomer.” Harry told Louis, surprised he felt confident enough to reveal this to him. “Instead I went and studied Art and Design so I could have gone into interior design, but that was never my dream.”

“Why don’t you just do it?” Louis said quickly. “Just like, you might have to sit some A-Levels but you could always start uni. You’re only a bit late now. I bet you’d get in.”

Harry shook his head, not allowing the delusions of grandeur that Louis was provoking inside of him to become a reality. “I have the florists now. It’s not what I wanted, but I do love it.”

Louis just smiled slightly. “Okay then.”

He began walking along the pathway again, fully aware Harry would need no beckoning for him to follow. He spent some time simply looking up at the stars he now knew were part of visible constellations. He looked at Polaris in particular, imagining life as a bright star that remained so close to the very top of the world. Bright, steady (due to its position in the sky) and alive was all Louis could think about when he looked at it, its beauty outshining the stars that surrounded it. But of course, the star had most likely been dead for years, its appearance lying to everyone that laid eyes upon it. Louis then looked at Harry, who, though utterly breath-taking, was clearly hurt and broken.

“It’s still alive, Polaris.” Harry stated, as if he could read Louis’ mind. “Nobody really knows when it will die, but it really is super bright.”

“You don’t know how happy that makes me Harry.” Louis gushed, his smile reaching his eyes.

Harry looked towards the floor with an endearing expression, as if he found Louis’ ultimate happiness the most beautiful thing in the world to witness, and he did.

“How about we skate?” Louis said suddenly, pointing towards the larger part of the river that had now come up along their side.

Harry’s eyes went wide as he snapped his head towards Louis. “Skate? On that?” He spluttered. “I’m wearing boots.”

“And it’s thick as anything, believe me. In this temperature the entirety of the water will be ice, plus, we both know that river is no deeper than a shallow bathtub. If the ice does crack, we’ll simply be left with wet shoes and frozen feet.”

“I don’t know,”

Louis chuckled, grabbing onto Harry’s hand and pulling him towards the river. “Come on, live a little.”

Surprised by Louis’ suggestion that he didn’t live an interesting life, Harry walked past Louis and yanked him forcefully towards the frozen water. Louis watched him with fondness as he pulled the two of them onto the ice, his grip so strong Louis had no choice but to follow.

“Move then.” Louis ordered kindly.

Harry did as he was told, shuffling backwards with his arms now outstretched in order to keep his balance. Louis walked forwards with apprehensiveness, waiting for the minute his poorly equipped pair of vans would fail him, and send him flying onto the thin layer of ice. It was a coccyx injury waiting to happen.

“This isn’t as easy as I thought it would be.” Louis stated, looking over at the younger lad, who was now moving a little faster.

Harry picked up his pace, skating towards the other side of the river with a wide grin. “You don’t say?”

Louis’ eyebrows knitted together as he saw Harry move with ease. “I bet you’re secretly an Olympic ice skater.” He scoffed.

Harry laughed. “Come here.” He said, approaching Louis and taking a hold of the smaller man’s hands. He slid them both around the river a little, unable to ignore the way Louis’ hands were shaking as though he was actually quite fearful of a possible fall. Soon, however, Louis started to skate with a little more confidence, and Harry giggled as the two of them moved around the river, hand in hand, much faster than he had been travelling earlier. Louis looked away from his feet and up at Harry with an expression that said ‘Look, I can do it.’ Considering Louis had been the one to suggest they skate, he was clearly the more scared of the two.

“See, it’s easy.” Harry said, quite lost for words in such an intimate position with the other man.

Louis nodded, looking down at the ice. “I know!” He squeaked, joy, even glee lining his Australian, dulcet tone.

In spite of their success at moving along so gracefully on the ice (well, as gracefully as you can be when skating in vans and boots) it only lasted those short few moments. As they got closer to the edge, the ice was growing more and more interrupted with stones, protruding through the frozen layer of water and causing a great tripping hazard for anyone that decided to walk along there. It was only seconds before Louis foot backed into one of the rocks, sending him flying backwards onto the bank that surrounded the water. Of course, due to the intertwined fingers, Harry came crashing down on top of Louis; they landed in a great heap on the dewy grass, both of them suddenly winded and shocked.

Harry instantly shot his hands to the ground so that they were on either side of Louis, allowing him to push himself up somewhat, but, much to Louis’ astonishment, stayed hovering above the brunette lad.

“I guess I got complacent.” Louis said, chuckling.

Harry’s lips remained in a smile. “It was bound to happen.”

“I’m sorry I brought you down with me.” Louis apologised. “Could have ruined your beautiful face.”

Harry was unsure how to accept Louis’ compliment, and his already rosy cheeks grew to be a crimson red. “Oh.” Harry said. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. I mean seriously I was probably gonna fall over myself at some point, it’s my fault for not pulling myself of off you when I should have, once we both got our footing –“

Louis cut Harry off by surging upwards and placing a kiss upon the younger boy’s lips. It was little more than a small peck, but Harry stopped talking immediately, his bewildered eyes meeting Louis’ “I- I think, I” Louis just moved his now soaking wet hand upwards and put his finger against Harry’s lips.

“Just, stop talking darling.” He said softly. “And let me kiss you again.”

Harry was taken aback by Louis’ forwardness. However, he was more than happy to oblige. All Harry had wanted to do from the moment Louis walked through his shop door was take the man into his arms and lose himself in kiss after kiss. So when Louis drifted his hand towards Harry’s cheek, closed his eyes and moved upwards, Harry mimicked his actions and allowed Louis to meet his lips. It remained a gentle, austere kiss with Louis and Harry wrapped together in complete harmony. Harry’s head was collapsing with short bursts of wonder, amazement at his actions with the gorgeous man below him.

Louis forced more of his weight upon Harry from beneath, pushing so that the two of them rolled over. In doing so, Harry’s head smacked itself against a pebble, abruptly ending the kiss. “Shit!” He shouted.

“Oh god Harry.” Louis said quickly, now on top, sitting up instantaneously. “I’m sorry!” He shouted honestly, but the look of fear was on his face for no more than half a second before he began laughing. “We’re so shit at this.” He said, his laughter growing louder and more hysteric by the second.

It took a few more seconds before the pain in Harry’s head faded a little, and he began giggling, which soon turned into loud laughter. A minute later, the two men were crying, both unable to get any words out through their loud, uncontrollable cackles.

“I – I can’t believe,” Harry tried to say, but had to stop talking due to the lack of oxygen in his lungs.

“God, I try to be romantic and look, I almost knock you out!” Louis shrieked, bringing his hands up so he could wipe his eyes.

Harry caught his breath, looking up at Louis. “It’s fine. I’ve had worse treatment trust me.” He assured the older boy, still cracking up at the hilarity of the situation.

“I hope this doesn’t ruin the entire night.” Louis said.

Harry, finally calming down, wiped the tears from his eyes and averted his gaze from Louis. He waited several moments, listening to the melodic sound of Louis trying to regain his composure. Finally, when he felt Louis’ eyes burn into the side of his head, he spoke. “I think this may be the best date I have ever been on, possible brain damage aside.” And despite the smirk that was still embellished across the curly haired man’s face, it was clear to Louis that Harry was being completely and notably, sincere.

*

December hit Harry like a ton of bricks; one minute he was lay down in the snow kissing the hottest man alive, the next he was being bombarded with an assault of red and green to the eyes, multiple repeats of festive themed songs on every last radio station, and Christmas packaging with the majority of his purchases. His sister was the one that reminded him he needed to decorate the shop (‘at least put up a few bits of tinsel or something you scrooge’). So, that was what he found himself doing wrapped up in a winter coat, on top of a ladder and arguing with Gemma on the very cold, very white and very christmassy 10th of December.

“No! Gemma, please just hold it still so I can staple it up here!” Harry shouted, growing frustrated with his sister. It was 1 o clock in the afternoon, yet Harry’s electricity bill was being run to the max with not only heaters – pretty useless heaters at that – but also almost every light in the shop being on full beam. Gemma had finally turned up to help him put up the Christmas decorations and the tree. However, the elder sibling had spent most of the time complaining about the weather and how she had ruined her new Chelsea boots on the way there, and Harry’s patience was wearing thin.

“My hands are too cold. They’re numb.” Gemma replied from where she was stood on the floor.

Harry sighed. “It’s winter, Gemma. I know we usually only get snow for an average of two days a year, and that some weird global-warming, fucked up... thing has caused England to become fucking Antarctica, but please can you get over the weather?!”

“Okay, okay. Someone’s a bit snippy today.” Gemma said, throwing her hands up in defense.

Seeing how his sister was hurt, Harry felt awful. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped.” He apologised. He descended the ladder, having successfully stapled the tinsel to the ceiling. “It’s just different this year.” He added once he was on solid ground again.

“I know.” Gemma agreed empathetically. “I don’t feel right without her input on the Christmas tree.” She said, glancing over at the bare, plastic, fake fir tree that stood tall in the corner of the shop.

Harry approached his sister, wrapping his hands around her from the side and leaning his head upon her shoulder. “We’ll survive. She’d want us to have an awesome Christmas.”

“She definitely would.”

The two siblings held each other for a short moment, pulling away as they heard the jingle from above the door.

“Harry!” A voice said cheerily, before a snow covered, twenty-something named Louis trudged onto the wooden floorboards, an open briefcase hastily thrown over his shoulder and a tray with three Starbucks cups in his left, gloved hand.

“It’s a blizzard out there!” Louis said happily, walking over to Gemma and Harry and handing them both a drink. “I remembered you said Gemma was here today,” He looked towards Gemma. “I got you a latte, hope that’s okay.”

Gemma nodded. “Thanks Lou.” 

“And for you it was the usual, of course. Hope you enjoy.” Louis said, before pressing a quick kiss to Harry’s cheek and wandering off towards the back room, removing articles of outdoor wear as he walked.

“I need me one of those.” Gemma whispered in her brother’s ear, winking when he turned to glare at her.

“You’ve got one.”

“But his bottom ain’t half as nice.”

Ever since Louis had given Harry a possible concussion on their date, he had been arriving at the shop with a coffee or cake every day during his lunch hour. He and Harry would chat, sip on their drinks and steal the odd kiss here and there, unable to do much else since Harry had to man the shop because Louis’ lunch hour is almost every office worker’s in the cities lunch hour. But it was nice, and Harry was enjoying the attractive company and interesting conversation that Louis provided. Unlike past conquests of Harry's, he found that Louis didn’t try to push him on details about how he was feeling, and he certainly didn’t mind that Louis liked to kiss him, not at all.

“So, how are my favourite brother and sister today then?” Louis asked as he reappeared, his coat, blazer, gloves, hat and scarf all discarded, leaving his muscular forearms bare in his work shirt and his hair disheveled in a way that made Harry’s stomach turn in knots just imagining what he could do to make it that way.

“I’m good.” Gemma answered, sitting herself down in Harry’s chair at the till and putting her feet up whilst she drank her latte.

“Also good.” Harry said, continuing on with his job of putting up tinsel, this time on the walls. “Would you like to help Gemma and I decorate the tree? It’ll be much quicker with the three of us.”

“Pfft, now Louis is here I will just stay here and give you constructive criticism.” Gemma laughed.

“Well, still quicker than me alone.” Harry pleaded, batting his eyelashes and pouting at Louis.

Louis sighed over dramatically. “Okay, fine, if I must.” He said, waiting a minute before he cracked a smile.

The two of them set to work, purposefully ignoring the rude comments from Gemma about their lack of artistic flare and arranging the baubles and lights in what Harry would most likely call, well, a mess. Harry was halfway through trying to spiral the fairy lights around the tree when a customer walked in, stopping both the boys from working as they stared at the doorway.

“Aunt Helen!” Gemma shouted almost instantly when the lady came into view, and the older woman smiled and ran over to Gemma, giving her a hug without even noticing Harry and Louis stood in the corner of the florist.

“Gemma, how are you? I didn’t know you were running the shop.” Helen announced, and Harry laughed from where he was stood.

“She’s not.” He responded as Helen’s head whipped round.

“Oh Harry,” Helen said, walking over to her nephew and hugging him tightly, just as she had with Gemma. “It’s so nice to see you both. And who is this handsome fellow?” She asked, giving Louis a good look up and down.

“I’m Louis. It’s nice to meet you.” Louis greeted quietly, unsure of how to say hello to Harry's family member. 

“Louis, this is my mum’s older sister, Helen.” Harry introduced her. “But I bet you guessed that.”

“What brings you here?” Gemma interjected.

Helen moved over to the till area, taking a seat at the small wooden stool, completely comfortable with making herself at home. Of course, she should have been, because just like Harry, Gemma, and Anne, she had lived in the shop for a part of her life. It was a true family home. “I wanted some flowers for Anne’s grave since I was visiting town.” She replied, softly; it still hit both Gemma and Harry hard when they heard someone speak of their mother’s grave.

“Well, I’ve got flowers.” Harry said sadly.

“I actually wanted to know if you would both like to join me. I’ve not been since, you know,” She was scared to say the word funeral. “And I’d love the company.”

“I would, but I can’t leave the shop.” Harry answered, which was factual. However, truthfully Harry had no desire to join his Aunt on a trip to Anne's grave. He visited it once a week, alone, and it never felt right when he went with Gemma. He much preferred it when he could speak to his Mum privately and tell her every detail about his week.

Gemma stood up “If you want to pick out some flowers, I will go with you.”

“Just choose some Helen. Family discount, you can have them for free.” Harry told his Aunt. Helen smiled at the man, her wrinkled eyes only reminding Harry further of his Mother’s, whose were youthful and bright, only stemming lines due to her never ending laughter. Gemma proceeded to choose a bouquet whilst Harry and Louis carried on with the fairly lights. Harry was silent, happy to see his Auntie but saddened by the sudden thoughts of his Mother’s death: that she was gone, the finality of it all. Louis didn’t try to make conversation or eye contact with Harry. He simply placed a supportive hand on the small of Harry’s back when he’d finished circling the tree.

“I will visit again whilst I’m in town, but of course I expect to see you at the boxing dash bash at the Smith Towers Harry.” Helen remarked, ready to leave to store. Harry was glad to know the ongoing joke about his Auntie and Uncles mansion being referred to by their surname was still going strong. She walked over and placed a kiss on his cheek before wrapping her arms tightly around him for the second time. “You’re welcome to join, Louis.” She added, grinning over at the older lad. Louis was obviously taken aback, and watched the way Harry’s eyes widened.

“Thanks.” He muttered, unable to get much else out.

Harry just waved at his sister and Aunt as the left the store, turning back around towards the tree slowly. “You can come, you know.” He spoke carefully. “I mean, it’s usually just Gemma, James, Mum and I, but obviously...” He stopped talking, knowing he was crossing over dangerous territory by inviting this man whom he had only met several weeks before over for his families Christmas party, especially considering the ambiguity surrounding where they stood with their relationship. 

“If you want me to, I will. It’s not like I’m going to be doing much this Christmas. I can’t afford the flights home so soon and Mum and the girls and the little lad won’t be able to make it down this time. Which is a shame, because I still haven’t met the twins, not since they were in Mum's stomach anyway.” Louis rambled. Harry watched him as he quietened. He could see the anticipation and fear swimming around in the older man’s eyes and knew that it was okay, Louis wanted to come. 

“I want you to.” Harry admitted, smiling. 

“Thank you Harry,” Louis said thoughtfully, before brightening slightly. “But you have to promise you will come to my work’s Christmas do.”

“Your what?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My workplace Christmas party. Apparently it’s always mega wild, and I’m gonna take a safe bet and assume you won’t be busy that Friday since I can’t imagine you and Sophie have a work’s party.”

Harry giggled. “Really, you think? Sophie and I actually sit here playing Mariah Carey whilst eating mince pie.”

“Well ditch her and come to mine instead.” Louis retorted, wrapping his hands around Harry’s waist. Despite the fact he was the smaller of the two, Harry felt completely dominated when he was held so firmly. 

“Okay, as long as there will be cake.”

*

After two weeks of present buying, over fourteen more coffees and a hell of a lot of listens to the Fairytale of New York due to Sophie’s kind requests, Louis’ work party finally rolled around.

“I’ve never been to a Christmas party at a work before.” Harry told Sophie, who was sat with her phone between her hands, completely unresponsive. “Jesus Soph, you’re missing them that much why don’t you just go spend time with them?” Harry joked. Sophie was on her first day of the Christmas holidays, and much to Harry’s surprise, had spent the entire day working with him. It’s not that he minded, nor that he couldn’t afford to pay her, he just didn’t understand her logic. “You’re fifteen. Go socialise."

“Without me you’d have been going to a smart casual party dressed like a fucking funeral bearer.” Sophie quipped, cocking an eyebrow at Harry.

“Fair point.” Harry replied. “But seriously, what should I expect? Louis will be here in ten minutes and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Sophie looked sympathetic, but Harry knew from her expression and quick shrug that she was just as clueless as him as to what a work party ensued. The shop had closed for business two hours ago, yet due to the snow Sophie didn’t want to walk home, and her mother was stuck in a traffic jam. Harry was thankful that he lived so close to town, he hardly ever started his car. The current weather situation in England was beginning to turn people into bat-shit crazy individuals whose vocabulary consisted of the three words: cold, hate and snow, with a topping of swear words for good measure. He was thankful he’d be gone by the time Sophie’s mother arrived.

Whilst waiting for Louis, Harry cleared up the mess he and Sophie had created with spoiled flowers earlier, when they had decided it was a good idea to see how far they could throw them from the very end of the shop. He brushed the browning petals into his dustpan and chucked them into the bin, looking round to check his shop looked presentable. As always, it did. 

Louis finally did turn up though. His tight dress shirt left both Sophie and Harry speechless, only able to look at the chest it was so miserably failing to hide. For the first time ever, Harry could see Louis’ tattoos in full glory, and he was not the only one left weak at the knees.

“Hi.” Harry murmured, not even bothering to try and look the beauteous man in the eye.

“You two have fun. I’m gonna,” Sophie tried to talk, backing towards the door that led upstairs, but quite clearly struggling as she knocked her foot against the mop bucket that was propped up against the brick wall. “I’m gonna go watch T.V.” She stammered, pulling away her eyes as though it physically hurt her to do so and running upstairs

“Don’t forget to lock up!” Harry shouted after her, although the shout probably wasn’t loud enough to be heard from anywhere out of a two metre radius of Harry.

“Are you finished looking at my tattoos?” Louis queries, amused by Harry’s expression that suggested he was in complete awe of the writing across Louis' collarbones.

Harry shifted his eyes upwards, mulling about awkwardly on his feet as he spoke. “You never have them on show. They’re so,” He stopped, before looking away. “Hot.”

“Why thank you, but are you kidding me? Do you not think your tattoos showing through everything white you ever wear makes me want to drool? I mean those on your hip bones.” Louis mused, grinning at Harry like a Cheshire Cat.

Harry grew awkward “Um, thanks.” He responded, unable to look at his companion. “Shall we go?”

“Indeed.” Louis agreed, leading the way out of the florists (as he always did) and taking a hasty step onto the thick layer of snow outside that was blanketed across the whole town. “I don’t know how much longer I can take this. It’s summer back home.” He told Harry as he trudged heavily on the white substance.

*

Harry didn’t know what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this.

Louis’ offices were impressive to say the least. Harry had heard of the place he said he was working, and he recognised the building when they finally arrived, but the interior was definitely something to indulge the eyes. When Louis had described his work as a ‘big ass law firm with big ass clients’, he hadn’t been lying.

The lobby was filled with balloons, gold, red and green tinsel, and a large table filled with h’orderves that made Harry’s mouth water. There were a few people littered around, chatting aimlessly or making their way over to what appeared to be bathrooms, but Harry assumed the real party was elsewhere, and judging from the lack of greetings Louis received and the loud music Harry could hear from somewhere over to the right of them, he was correct.

“It’s in two of the conference rooms, they emptied them and pulled across the separator.” Louis said as he led Harry over to a double door. There was a door guy stood there placing a cigarette between his mouth.

“Louis!” The doorman greeted happily, taking away the cigarette for a moment and pulling Louis into a hug.

“Hey Trevor, you shouldn’t be lighting that inside!” Louis said in return. “I don’t have to show you my pass right?” Trevor simply shook his head. “Okay, Trevor this is Harry.”

“Hello.” Harry said, shaking the bald man’s hand.

Trevor seemed to smile knowingly, as though he and Harry had met before. “Heard all about you, lad.” He said kindly. “Have fun boys.”

Louis thanked him and pulled Harry through the heavy wooden doors into what looked like an old village hall his friends used to have parties at in Primary school, but instead filled with adults who were one, obviously drunk and two, actually happy to dance. There was a makeshift bar at one end of the room and a d.j set up at the other. Yet, despite the ‘eleven year old’s birthday party’ vibe the room gave off, it hadn’t lost the expensive touch that was provided by the fancy carpet and the glass walls.

“Jesus, you work with the big bucks huh?” Harry asked Louis, unable to keep quiet.

Louis laughed. “Some of them are. Not the ones that I mix with. Would you like me to introduce you to some of my colleagues?”

Harry smiled, nodding and following Louis over to the bar. When Louis questioned what he wanted to drink, he decided he was going to have a proper drink, and asked for a rum and coke as opposed to his usual beverage of plain old lemonade. Louis, being the flamboyant young man he was, ordered himself a Pina Colada, which oh so fabulously appeared with a sparkler sending bright embers across the bar as it was served to them.

“I saw the drink, and realised there was only one person who could be ordering it. I wasn’t wrong.” A young, very well kept and extremely good looking man said, seeming to apparate in front of Harry and Louis, a beer in his hand.

“Liam!” Louis exclaimed, throwing his arms around the other bloke. “Where’ve you been since like, last week?”

“I’ve been out, had a client in London.” Liam explained, turning to look at Harry. “Who’s this then?”

“Liam, this is Harry. Harry, this is Liam.” Liam and Harry nodded at one another, shaking hands. “He’s my bosses right hand man, but I think he spends the majority of the time he’s at work checking out my ass.”

Liam let out a loud laugh. “Straight, remember?” He chortled. Harry knew they were both joking around, but couldn’t help the flare of pure jealousy that erupted inside of him.

Louis grinned. “I know. Where is that girlfriend of yours? I thought she would be joining us on this fine night?”

“Sophia?” Liam asked, looking around and trying to spot her, his eyes wandering among the crowd. “She is here, but I have no idea where she got off to.” He explained, shrugging.

“Well get her to come and say hello when you find her. I feel like I already know the woman. I’m going to find the rest of the gang and introduce Harry.”

“Okay. See you in a bit, nice meeting you Harry.” Liam said with a kind smile in Harry’s direction. Harry returned it, trying his best not to feel uncomfortable.

Louis began walking over to a group of people who were doing that obnoxious drunken laughter thing whilst sat on a couple of comfy looking chairs, beckoning Harry to follow him. There was around ten of them, and they seemed to all look up and smile in their direction once they noticed Louis was approaching with Harry in tow, sipping on his Pina Colada so thoroughly it was already halfway drained.

When they arrived at the group, it fell quiet, a small blonde lad breaking the silence with a cheery shout of “So this is the Harry we’ve heard so much about then?”

“Yes, guys this is Harry. Now be nice and don’t scare him off.”

“We didn’t scare you off.” A brunette bubbled from next to the blonde lad, her glasses propped up top of her head, threatening to fall into her face at any moment.

“Harry, meet the gang. Along with Liam,” Louis firstly pointed towards a guy with brown hair and a body that meant Harry would allow him to do unspeakable things to him. “There is Josh,” The brown haired guy smiled, Louis moved along “Lou,” A blonde lady whose smile made Harry feel like he really was welcome there, “Ben,” Yet another attractive young man, “Niall,” The blonde guy from earlier “Bryony,” The girl with the glasses “Zayn,” A dark haired lad who nodded at Harry with a warm expression, “Gabrielle,” an woman of around thirty who would look out of place it weren’t for her killer body, “and Stan.” A plump man that moved quickly to shake Harry’s hand.

“We’re the non-graduate thickos.” Lou told Harry, having to move her hair away from her face. “We banded together because our work consists of nothing more than emailing and making coffees.”

“Yeah, meet the P.A’s and secretary’s, that’s us. Expect Liam, he’s an exception” Zayn intoned.

Louis put his arm around Harry, covering his ears. “Stop guys, I want Haz to think I work hard.”

Harry laughed. “I already know you don’t work hard Louis.” He tried to sound nonchalant, but had taken notice of the nickname Louis had used for him. It had been years since someone had called him Haz. 

“Sit down guys.” Stan said, moving up to make enough room for one. Lou and Josh mimicked his actions and beckoned Harry over. Harry decided that if there was anyone in the circle he wanted it to be sat next to other than Louis it would be Lou, who he’d instantly taken a liking to. Both he and Louis sat down in the spaces that had been made for them, and almost straight away, Gabrielle, Zayn and Stan started talking to Louis about something shocking that had happened in the office that day, so when Lou asked him about what he did for a living, Harry was happy to answer.

“I own a florist.” Harry said simply, smiling.

“I have a feeling Louis has mentioned that.” Lou said. “Josh, what did he say was the name?”

“It’s Anne’s Bouquet Boutique isn’t it?” Josh added. It was clear to Harry that Josh had heard about his shop more than once, and therefore Louis must have been talking about Harry an awful lot, which he wasn’t going to pretend didn’t make him extremely happy.

Ben suddenly joined in the conversation. “If I had a pound for the amount of times I had to go there when I still had a wife.” He laughed. “I’d be rich!”

Harry giggled and carried on chatting with the three of them, finding it very easy to feel comfortable among Louis’ work colleagues. Niall and Bryony were also keen to know about his life, asking him questions about what he’d studied at school and how he’d acquired the florists. The entire time, these completely new people surprised him with the knowledge of his life, proving Louis was well, more than just a little verbal about his ongoing relationship (if that’s what it was? They hadn’t really labelled it) with Harry.

Harry was surprised to find out Louis was one of the only ones to actually bring his optional ‘+1’, Lou having left her husband at home to look after their daughter, Ben, Niall, Zayn, and Stan all single and Bryony and Josh both having partners whom were busy. Gabrielle had brought her husband, but he had disappeared the minute he spotted the booze, apparently. Liam and Sophia were still off somewhere else, so Harry enjoyed his time as the only newcomer to the group, loving the way he could take part in every conversation because they were all now avoiding talking about work.

Several rounds of drinks later, none of which Harry paid for (the perks of being a guest, he thought) Harry was beginning to loosen up. He moved around the circle so he was practically sat on Louis’ lap, who found it rather funny in his intoxicated state, and if Harry was tipsy, Louis was straight up drunk, not having left the cocktails menu alone.

“So, the infamous Harry.” A voice traveled from behind them. Louis seemed to tense from beneath Harry as he turned around to look at the owner of the voice.

“Mr Grimshaw.” Louis stated, his tone curt.

Harry followed Louis' gaze. Mr. Grimshaw was far from intimidating - a kind, older face and hair that looked like it had been styled by the gods. He looked like somebody who spent the majority of his time smiling, completely harmless. However, the way Louis froze up upon hearing his voice told Harry otherwise, and Harry was well aware that looks could be deceiving. 

“Please Louis, we’re out of work. It’s Nick.” The man countered, chuckling. “Aren’t you gonna introduce me?”

Louis sighed, turning to Harry, seeming to have sobered in the short seconds that Nick had been standing behind them. “Harry, this is Nick. He’s my boss.”

“Hey.” Harry greeted, holding his hand out towards the man. Nick took his hand and shook it quickly, checking Harry out, not so subtly.

“I hear you’ve been fucking my little P.A here?” Nick smirked, clearly enjoying the way Louis was squirming from beneath Harry.

Harry almost choked on his cocktail, mortified by Nick’s phrasing and not sure how to reply to him. He looked towards Louis with wide eyes, who was glaring angrily at his boss. 

“Nick, don’t.” Louis seemed to beg.

“Come and get a drink with me, looks like Harry’s almost ran out.” Nick proposed. Even if he said it as a question, Harry knew straight away that Louis had no choice. Nick clearly liked to take advantage of the power he had over Louis. 

Louis tapped on Harry’s arm, asking him none-verbally to move from his lap so he could stand up. He kissed Harry’s cheek and whispered “I’ll be back in a sec.”, giving Harry one last look that told him the last thing he wanted to do was leave with Nick. He walked away with the older man nevertheless. 

“Wanker.” Niall coughed the minute they were out of earshot.

“I know right.” Gabrielle agreed. “What a c-u next Tuesday.”

“Why was Louis like that with him?” Harry asked the others, as there was definitely a resided hatred towards Nick Grimshaw in the group, one that Harry wanted to know more about. 

Lou laughed. “He’s a bit of a shit boss to say the least. It’s a miracle Liam is usually around to shut him up.”

“He’s a tosser.” Zayn added, looking towards the ground with a rather angered expression. Something about the way he said it made Harry feel uneasy. Despite the fact he wanted to believe Louis’ reaction had simply been down to Nick being nothing more than a twat, he felt like the group knew something he didn’t. There was obviously more than met the eye, and Harry was curious and worried to learn what exactly that was. Harry tried to ignore the feeling and sipped on the dregs of his drink, trying to stop thinking about the fact that they were still waiting for Louis. Several minutes later, Niall got another round of drinks in and the drunken talk began once again.

Harry’s mind clouded over and as he sipped on the corkscrew - a green concoction he’d decided to try - he completely forgot about Louis’ absence. He chatted with Stan, Niall and Zayn about the difference between girls and boys. Niall, who had dabbled with men at some point even if he now identified as straight, and Zayn, who basically gave the same explanation, both gave Harry the impression that their ‘dabbling’ had gone on with, well, each other, and if the way Niall placed his hand on Zayn’s back when he was about the fall of the arm of the chair was anything to go by, he wasn’t far from correct. It was only about forty minutes after Louis’ departure, that Lou brought up the fact he was still missing.

“Harry, Louis still hasn’t come back.” She reminded her new friend, looking over at him worriedly.

“Oh god, yeah.” Harry said slowly, his head having turned to mush at some point in the last half an hour. “I’ll go and look for him.”

Lou looked apprehensive at the thought, and jumped up from where she was sat. “I’ll join you, I know the way around here.” She offered, clearly teasing Harry for his lack of knowledge about the office building.

“Okay, thank you. Farewell for now guys.” Harry said, waving at his new friends. Everyone waved, and Zayn gave him a pat on the back. 

Lou led him to the bar, but it was a lost cause. Even though the entire length was littered with workers both young and old, neither Louis nor Nick were visible among its punters. She then guided him to the bathrooms, but after a search in the men’s conducted by Harry, and a similar one conducted in the women’s by Lou, Louis was still nowhere to be found. It only took one look across the rest of the room to tell them that Louis was no longer in this part of the building. 

“If he’s not in the lobby, then we could try the office.” Lou suggested, pulling Harry out of the make-do function room. Straight away, Trevor told the two of them that Louis had walked out with Nick quite a while ago, although he wasn’t sure if they’d left or gone to the office.

“The office it is.” Lou said, pulling Harry towards the elevator and taking him up to floor seven, where she knew Louis’ mini office (that was placed on the side of Nick’s unnecessarily bigger office) was situated.

Walking past her own desk and heading towards Louis’, Lou started to realise that it may have been a mistake to bring Harry on a search for the man she knew would be innocent whatever they may fine. She was fully aware what Nick was like, and it was a worrying prospect to be left alone with him, especially as Louis was almost every day.

To neither of their surprise, the glass on Louis' door, which was embellished with both his and Nick's name, had on orangy glow streaming through onto the carpet outside. Lou couldn’t tell if she could her shouting or not, due to the massively sound proof double glazing, but was sure that there was most definitely a heated conversation going on inside of the room. Harry, who had been ambling along behind her, seemed to get a bout of courage and stormed forwards. He whacked open the door to the office with such force Lou was frozen to her spot. 

Of course, it was inevitable he was going to find Louis and Nick in a compromising position.

Louis was pressed up against the desk with his hands on Louis' chest, struggling whilst Nick was wrapped around him like he owned the younger man. Despite how clear it would be to anyone else that Louis was not the guilty one, Harry just didn't see it that way. 

“Harry!” Louis screeched “I swear this isn’t what it looks like!” He sounded genuinely scared, upset and like he had already been on the verge of tears. But it was too hard for Harry not to imagine Louis having come here with Nick simply to fuck him, and it made him feel ill.

"How can it not be?” Harry asked, feeling tears burn at his eyes. “Fuck you Louis.” He sneered, spinning around on the spot and storming back out of the office, ignoring the shouts of protest from both Louis and Lou from behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you're liking this so far! The third and final part of the story will be uploaded (hopefully!) during the next week due to me having to edit out a part of the story I wasn't so overly keen on. Please pop us a kudo and a comment. This short story has been my life for the past few weeks, and I actually started writing it way back in January, so it's been on my mind an awful lot!


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three

Harry hadn’t realised the severity of his feelings for Louis. No, he had only thought they were a quick fling, something that was doing a very good job of taking his mind off of his mother’s recent death. But after seeing Louis in Nick’s embrace, Harry knew he was in deep. Once he’d arrived home, wet from the snow and shivering so much he could hear the chattering of his teeth, Harry couldn’t even make it past the door of the shop before his eyes began to burn with tears.

He wasn’t sure if he was crying because of what he had seen, or because his Mother - who was always there to console Harry - didn’t materialise carrying a mug of steaming tea and a blanket once he stepped into the shop. It was as though in the mist of the immense sadness that had arisen from seeing Louis and Nick, he had forgotten that his Mum wouldn’t be there when he got home, and on the entire cold, bleary journey back his one and only thought had been ‘I want Mum.’

Back in 2012, when Danny had finally called off their thing, Harry had been left absolutely devastated. It wasn’t because he was in love with the boy, no. The reason Harry had been left so upset was because, well, he told his Mum everything, and even though the ending of his first serious, kind-of relationship seemed like something he should most definitely be sharing with her, he couldn’t, because at the time, nobody but Danny was aware of his sexual preferences.

Harry would never forget the clear, prominent memory of breaking down in his small bedroom, crying so hard at the thought of telling his family about the fact that he was a gay, and he wasn’t going to marry any of his Mum’s friend’s daughters. He could remember longing to speak to his Mum about how he had felt when experimenting with Danny, how their chaste kisses had made his stomach buzz, and how his eyes made Harry feel a weakness and vulnerability he only thought possible when watching a ron-com. But he couldn’t. So he cried.

Anne had heard the soft, muffled crying from their living room. Of course she had. It was in the middle of their flat and therefore next door to every other room up there. She also had a sixth sense when it came to her children, and Harry’s solemn looked when he arrived home that night told her that he was far from the jovial boy that she loved so dearly.

Harry had felt a hand running through his hair before he even realised his Mum was in the room with him. Her soft melodic voice asked him if somebody had broken his heart, and Harry looked up to see the confusion on her face when he told her that no, nobody had broken his heart.

“What’s this all about, then? You don’t often cry my love.” She questioned kindly, still running her fingers through his brown, teenage curls.

Harry tried to wipe away some of the salt water that was swimming down to his chin. “I want to tell you something.” He had replied. “But I can’t.”

“Harry I love you unconditionally, and if you want to tell me anything, and I mean anything, I can assure you that you can. Nothing will change how much I love you.” Anne spoke. To anyone else, her tone may have seemed harsh, cruel even, but Harry knew that his Mother was simply speaking with such passion that she couldn’t say it calmly.

Harry knew then that really, his Mum was fully aware of what he wanted to say, and was just allowing him to take his time. The sincere look in her eyes emulated unconditional love, and told him that it was okay, she known for a long, long time, and accepted him all the same. “You know, don’t you?” He finally whispered, averting his eyes towards his duvet cover and fiddling with the press studs that held the fabric around the quilt.

Anne nodded. “You don’t have to say it baby, not if you don’t want too.”

Harry just lunged forward and hugged his Mum, soaking the sleeve of her light blue dressing gown that smelt so much like home that Harry just wanted to stay buried in it forever. “Mum I love you. Thank you for accepting me.”

“I’ll love you forever Harry, no matter who you fall in love with, be it a boy or a girl.”

The memory of that night had been replayed in Harry’s head over and over, on a continual loop that Harry had to try hard to tune out of sometimes. But now, as he was sitting on the floor of the shop, the image of the man he had been falling so helplessly for with another burning its way so freshly through his mind, Harry wanted his Mum back so that he could dig his head into her shoulder just as he had done that night. This time, it would be because someone really had broken his heart, and he needed her. Anne, who would hug him and molly-coddle him and tell him that it was okay, he would find someone else. His Mum, who was the only person that could make his brew how he really liked it, the only person who would be able to cheer him up even after Marley dies in Marley and Me, the only person who would know exactly what to say to make it all better.

And that was it, Harry didn’t know if the tears had been due to Louis’ betrayal, or his Mother’s absence, but he when he fell asleep that night, his pillow was awash with sounds of complete hopelessness.

He awoke the next morning to the welcoming pounding of a headache, not only from the multiple cocktails he had consumed the previous night, but also from the way he had fallen asleep, tearful and frozen. His phone was dead. He dreaded to think of the missed calls he would most likely have from both his sister and Louis.

Rolling out of bed, Harry pulled the t-shirt that was sitting atop the laundry pile in the corner of his room over his head, grumbling at the crushing pain that rushed through his limbs as he moved. This was why he didn’t drink.

He made his way to the kitchen, switching on the kettle and staring over at the clock on the wall. 11:44, 20th of December. He was almost three hours late opening up the shop, and would most likely have lost a butt load of money, especially on a date so close to Christmas. He prepared himself a mug for his coffee and groaned as he stirred the now newly boiled water into it, trying hard not to gag when he took his first sip. That was when he decided there was no way he could be Mr. Friendly Customer Service for the next 6 hours.

Gemma didn’t usually pick up her house phone, but luckily for Harry, she was saying hello before the first ring had even been completed.

“Gem, could you do me a big favour?” Harry pleaded, making sure to convey his sickness over the phone.

“You sound awful Harry. Are you okay?” She asked him, before fumbling around and replying to James in the background. “It’s Harry.”

“I need you to come and watch the shop for today.” Harry told her, his tone blunt.

Gemma coughed. “Um, Haz, can’t you ask Soph or something? It’s like, the 20th or something and I finally just got out of uni.”

“Please Gem, I need you. Sophie has gone away for the holidays today and… Please.”

“Urgh. Okay.” Was all Gemma said before she put the phone down, leaving a lightheaded Harry both literally and technically alone in his kitchen once again. It was only moments later that Harry had to chuck his drink onto the counter and sprint to the sink, throwing up the contents of his stomach into its depth.

He began crying again, pictures flooding his mind of Louis pressed up against his boss. Gemma found him like that, tears rolling down his face whilst he repeatedly vomited into the washing up bowl.

*

“It’s his birthday.”

“I know!” Harry screamed back.

It was Christmas Eve, and as always, Gemma and Harry were at their Grandparent’s house. After Gemma found Harry sobbing into the sink the morning after the party, she had forced him to explain exactly what had caused his upset. Upon hearing it was because of Louis, Gemma was so angry that Harry thought she was going to storm right around to Louis; home and punch his lights out. Luckily for all involved, she settled with calling Louis. She had been ready to screech at the boy, question how he could hurt somebody so vulnerable, but much to her surprise, the Louis that answered the phone was not dissimilar to the Harry she had come over to help out. Gemma wanted nothing more than for Harry to know what had really been happening that night, but it was proving a hard task to even talk to him about it. Over the next four days, Gemma tried to convince Harry to pick up when Louis called, to at least listen to what he had to say. Louis had begged Gemma to tell Harry that it was a misunderstanding. But of course, Harry was having none of it. He refused repeatedly to listen to Gemma’s reasoning, and because they were siblings, and it’s what siblings do, they ended up fighting.

Gemma turned to their Grandfather, who had entered the room with a bowl of crisps and a beer. “Tell him! Granddad! Louis is spending his birthday and Christmas alone whilst Harry here is acting like he doesn’t exist!”

Their Granddad looked between the two of them in confusion, his brow furrowing. “Harry, I do think you should at least listen to what this Louis has to say.”

Harry felt betrayed, not only was his sister sticking up for Louis, who had successfully managed to break the version of himself he had spent so long rebuilding, but now his Granddad was also going along with it. “He was the first man I let into my life since Mum died and you think it’s fine that he did this?!” He questioned, not waiting for an answer before he carried on, looking at the pair of them with complete despair. “Gem, Granddad,” He couldn’t finish his sentence. Tears that Harry couldn’t believe he had left were now creating a salty pathway down his cheekbones. He tried to say something, anything that would get them to understand how much it hurt to see someone you were falling in love with in the arms of another. But it was too hard, and he gave up, defeated. Sitting down on the carpet, he stayed silent and put his head in his hands. Harry had never cried in front of his Granddad before – it was embarrassing. He hadn’t even cried when he had to tell his mother’s parents about his sexuality, but now the tears just wouldn’t stop flowing.

Gemma moved towards him, hesitantly reaching out a hand and placing it upon his knee. She stroked it slowly and looked over towards her Granddad in worry. “What do we do?” She mouthed.

“Get your Grandma.” He whispered back, waiting for Gemma to leave before he took her place.

Soon, Harry was surrounded by his small but lovely family. His Grandmother made him several brews whilst his Granddad and Gemma replenished his chocolate supply every time it was empty. The four of them sat around the lounge and watched Christmas films, and Harry tried his best to laugh when he should. Later, Harry and Gemma’s dad rang them to say he would love them to visit at some point during the holidays, so he could give them both their Christmas presents. Harry momentarily forgot about Louis and what had happened, enjoying the time with his family. Love Actually, which was one of Harry’s favourite movies, was one of the last things he could see when he finally started to fall asleep with his sister at his feet.

Despite this, just before he drifted away, he heard something he didn’t want to hear.

“He was finally happy.” Gemma spoke dejectedly. “Like, Grandma, I know it’s hard to imagine because he’s been like a shell since Mum dying but… he was finally happy again and I don’t think there’s anyone but Louis who can help us.”

*

Louis was bored.

He loved Lou and Tom to pieces, sure, but he hadn’t imagined himself spending his first Christmas in Britain with a work colleague and her husband, along with their ultimately adorable daughter, Lux.

And Harry still wasn’t answering his calls.

It was annoying, on the most part. He wanted to hit Nick for making Harry believe that he was cheating on him (if that were even possible when you weren’t officially an item) but whatever, he was not extremely fond of his boss for causing Harry to believe that he would do that to someone, especially someone as beautiful and amazing as Harry, Louis was just upset that Harry wouldn’t let him explain. If Harry would simply pick up the phone, he would be able to sort out everything.

You see, Nick had been interested in Louis from the minute he walked in on his first day. It was due to Louis’ inability to be impolite that he had given Nick the idea that he was too, interested. On his third day on the job, Louis hastily agreed to having a few drinks with Nick after work. Both drunkenness and foolishness had led to Louis being bent over his desk, begging his boss for more.

From then on, it had been hard to show Nick that well, it was a drunken mistake, he had feelings for Harry and that… he just didn’t want to go there again.

Nick would never have gone as far as actually forcing Louis to do something, he knew that. But he has begun crying the minute Nick put his hands on either side of his body.

“Come on, Louis, one more time?”

Louis tried to move but failed. “No, Nick.”

“You’re such a prude.” Nick said. “But whatever, your loss.” He added, looking at Louis with lazy, intoxicated eyes. Before Louis had had a chance to push Nick away, Harry was at the door and staring at them in complete shock and disgust.

Louis shook his head, trying to eliminate the memories from his mind and focus on something, anything else. He distracted himself by playing with Lux and laughing whenever she did something that clearly, she thought was comedy gold.

“Louis, it’s Christmas, cheer up.” Lou commented, picking Lux up and exciting the young girl with a biscuit. “He will answer soon.”

“You don’t understand Lou.” Louis replied defensively, smiling when Lux made grabby hands at him and screamed at her Mum to put her back down.

Lou shrugged. “What is there to understand? Louis, he thinks you were fucking – oops, sorry Lux,” She reprimanded herself. “I mean making love with your boss on the regular. You’re not. You never were. Just give him time.”

“I’d finally gained his trust, like in the past few weeks since I went out with him and we kissed. I mean, he was becoming a completely different guy.”

“It’s the first Christmas since he lost his mum Louis. Imagine the emotions he’s having to go through, celebrating the holidays without his Mother for the first time ever, and then four days before that somebody he’s beginning to actually like is found possibly about to have sex with somebody else? It’s gotta hurt.” Lou explained, looking at the younger man sympathetically. “I mean, I say you win him back with a super romantic feat, but maybe leave it a few days? He needs this time.”

Louis sighed. “I know. I do understand that, it’s just – how long do I wait? I was falling for him Lou. I never thought I would fall for someone so easy after my ex, but, I actually thought I might have found well, the one.”

Lou smiled, sitting down in front of Louis and entertaining her daughter absentmindedly “Then you, Mr, can wait forever. If he means that much to you, he will realise. I promise.”

“So I should just give up?”

“I never said that. Just, leave it a few days hun. Maybe wait until Christmas is over? It’s gonna be a really hard time for him.”

So that’s what Louis did. As Christmas weekend came to an end, Louis did little more than think about Harry, who was most probably at his Aunt Helen’s Boxing Day bash alone, without Louis, and hating him for ruining his Christmas. There was nothing Louis wanted more than to text Gemma and ask for the address, but he decides, very sadly, against the idea. Gemma rang him late on the 26th telling him nearly the same as what Lou told him. “Harry isn’t himself at the moment. He’s not thinking straight, and therefore just can’t come to terms with what he saw. Give him some time.”

He lived out the next lot of hours like clockwork - eat, sleep and lots of emotional Christmas movies that left him sobbing into his food. When skyping his family, Louis felt lonelier by the minute, longing to be able to touch the newest additions to the family – Doris and Ernest – rather than simply cooing at them from behind a computer screen. And when he settled down in bed at night, he was imagining Harry, perhaps over the other side of the country or maybe having already returned to their quaint, little town, but probably, like Louis, completely alone in his bed. They used to text endlessly at that time, all the way until Harry would stop replying because he had drifted off to sleep. Sure, it had only been just over a month that the two of them had been involved in such correspondence, but Louis felt its absence like a never-ending burn in his chest, prominent and persistent. Even when Lux ran into the Teasdale/Atkin‘s spare room that had become Louis’ place of residence over Christmas time, blowing bubbles at Louis with the little tub she had received for Christmas, Louis struggled to laugh, and had to remind himself to wait. Just wait.

Unfortunately for both Louis and Lou, there is no rest for the wicked, and well, lawyers, and just like many an office worker in between Christmas and New Year, they had to return to work for a cold and tediously long two days. Louis had been dreading this particular return for several reasons, the main being his boss. Not only did Nick try to cop off with him, which, after their sexual encounter back when he moved to England, was enough to make things a little awkward, he also disliked Nick more than just a little for ruining what he and Harry could have been.

With a poor attempt at a smile sent Trevor’s way when he arrived, Louis found himself once again back in the place he had once loved, but was now growing to hate more and more.

However, thankfully for Louis, Emily from the front desk mentioned that Nick was out of office for the morning, and simply wanted Louis to sort out his manic schedule for when they would all come back in January. Louis was more than happy to comply, setting out to finish the task Nick had left for him in the hope that the older man wouldn’t be back at the office before home time.

“Mrs Parker, I understand that you would like to see Mr Grimshaw ASAP, but you are not his only client, and his first available slot in the new year is the sixth.” Louis was telling an angry client of Nick’s when his office door opened, revealing the man in question himself.

“Well does he want this to go to court? Because I’m finding it very hard to understand how putting off meetings with me will help my case.”

Louis was thankful that the phone was on loud speaker, as Mrs Parker’s question prompted Nick to wander over and take the phone out of Louis’ hand.

“Angela, if you would so kindly stop being rude to my P.A, I may be able to help you.” He said, winking at Louis, who was taken aback by the fact that Nick was actually kind of sticking up for him.

There was a loud sigh from the other end of the phone. “Mr Grimshaw. I have found papers that prove ones that the company presented were tampered with. I need to see you.”

“As Mr Tomlinson will have most likely told you, you are welcome to drop the papers by as soon as you wish, but that will not change the fact I am busy until, “ He looked towards Louis with a curious face, who mouthed ‘Tuesday’ and held up six fingers. “Tuesday the sixth.”

“Right.” The older woman answered, clearly disgruntled. “Okay, I will drop the papers by this afternoon.” She added, before hanging up, not allowing Louis or Nick to even so much as breath a goodbye.

“She’s a right bitch, that one. I mean, she has been wrongly accused as fraud, but I’m doing my best. The opposition presented a pretty good case.” Nick said once he had replaced Louis’ phone in its spot on the desk. He looked pointedly at Louis, as though in question of whether he was going to reply. Seeing that Louis was pretty clueless on what to say, he spoke up. “Look I’m sorry about the party.”

Louis scoffed. “You’re sorry?”

“You know what I’m like once I’ve had a drink.” Nick said hopefully. “I’m sorry I took it so far.”

“You wouldn’t have done anything? Had Harry walked in you wouldn’t have… you know..?”

Nick looked shocked, and shook his head quickly. “I mean, I’m a prick but no, never, Louis I respect your right to say no.”

“Good.” Louis spoke with finality, still angry at Nick but not really sure where to take the conversation.

“I am sorry, though. How did your friend, or rather your boyfriend, how did he take it?” Nick asked, and for a moment Louis actually thought his boss sounded kind of worried.

Louis looked at his desk, moving a few things around with his fingers. “We weren’t official, you know? And he didn’t take it great; he’s not spoken to me since.”

“Shit.” Nick said quickly under his breath. “I’m sorry, I knew what I was doing –“

“Save it. Please just, don’t do anything like you did at the party again.”

Nick assured Louis he wouldn’t, and Louis could tell the older man was completely sincere, but he still has no desire to be friendly.

*

One day. Harry had to keep telling himself it was only one day. But acting normal when it was Christmas time and she wasn’t around was growing harder and harder, and even though Harry knew he must open up the shop for at least a day before the new year, he really, really didn’t want too.

Still, Harry knew it was necessary if he wished to be able to pay December’s utility bills off, and it would be a disaster if he could no longer afford his television package that allowed him to keep up with every episode of Millionaire Matchmaker, America’s Next Top Model, Project Runway and Dance Mom’s.

So Harry begrudgingly turned the sign in the door’s window around to ‘Open’, and stepped outside with a fresh lot of flowers to place in the hanging baskets that lined the wall.

He was growing tired of the snow. It was no longer fun, pretty or even romantic. No, it was annoying, wet and cold. And Harry hated how when he looked out onto the icy road he was reminded of Louis and Him earlier that month, kissing underneath the constellations.

Harry hated how he was reminded of Louis at all, actually, especially because since Christmas day, Louis had made no attempt to contact him whatsoever. Not even a text had been sent Harry’s way, and it was upsetting. He wouldn’t have replied, but it would still be nice to know that Louis was at least thinking of him. It made Harry feel even worse than he already had, knowing that clearly, he was that easy to forget.

Harry huffed as he sat down behind the till, rearranging the clutter into neat piles until there was nothing left to organise. He grabbed the remote for the radio, spinning around and pressing the power button.

“Every move you make

Every vow you break”

Harry instantly froze upon hearing the lyrics of ‘Every Step You Take’ fill the shop floor. Gemma had left 80’s fm on. And this was the song that Harry’s mother had insisted upon being played at her funeral. 

It was like a little person inside of Harry crawled into his head a rebooted his brain, as though hearing a song switched on all the feelings he had been shying away from ever since the party.

He couldn’t lose Louis.

He had already lost his Mum, the only other person that had treated him so dearly as the older boy did. That was it, the simple truth. He couldn’t go through that emotion again. He couldn’t allow Louis to live on the rest of his life thinking he was dead to Harry. He loved him. He fucking loved Louis.

His momentary realisation was interrupted when the shop door was thrown open. Liam appeared in the entrance, followed swiftly by the man whom Harry was hoping he never had to lay his eyes upon again. Both of them smiled at Harry, who just stared at them stunned.

“Harry. Hello.” Liam greeted. “I um, brought Nick here because I think he needs to say something to you.”

“What?” Harry spoke with astonishment, frowning. Where the hell had they both come from?

“Nick, go on.” Liam urged, pushing the older man slightly forward.

He looked very uncomfortable, trying his best not to crack under Harry’s gaze. “Harry, Hi.” He finally spoke. Before Harry had the chance to say whatever snide remark was on the tip of his tongue, Nick announced. “Look, Louis informed me yesterday that you are ignoring him because of what you saw at the office party. And I came here to assure you, other than some longing to completely wreck him on my part, because fuck is he fit –“

“Nick.” Liam warned.

“Sorry.” Nick quipped, flitting a hand in Liam’s direction. “Well, yeah, other than that, nothing is going on between my P.A and I, I swear. If it weren’t for me, you would have never had found the two of us in such a compromising position. So I, though Liam practically forced me here, I apologise for any upset it has caused.”

Harry rose his eyebrows. “Are you serious?”

“What is it with my apologies being met with such scepticism? You and Louis are both so unforgiving. I know I’m a knob okay, I’ll work on it.” Nick exclaimed, flinging his arms into the air.

Liam rolled his eyes. “Nick. Kindly shut up.” He remarked, throwing a hand over Nick’s mouth when his colleague tried to say something else. “Seriously.” He added before removing his hand. He turned to Harry. “Though Nick put it so awfully, what he said was true. Louis was never with him whilst the two of you have been a thing Harry. And he is literally like sooooooo upset over all of this.”

Harry smiled, suddenly overjoyed and laughing, reveling in the warm, cozy feeling of love that pooled in his stomach. “Okay.” He mused, shaking his head. He’d been so blind all of this time.

“Oh,” Liam popped, his eyes widening. “I didn’t realise it was funny.”

“It’s not.” Harry assured him whilst trying to catch his breath, but he was unable to keep the grin off his face.

Liam looked sort of bewildered, but continued on nevertheless. “Well, anyhow. I wanted to invite you to my New Year’s Eve party. Louis will be there. Please just, like hear him out, you know?”

“Address?” Harry replied instantly.

“Pardon?” Liam frowned.

“Your address, what is it?” Harry expanded; the left side of his lop quirking up into a smile.

“So you’ll come?” Liam beamed, clapping his hands together, to which Nick sighed, ashamed of his work partner’s childish nature. “Um, here, I’ll write it down!”

*

Louis was not feeling up to a party, and wanted to kindly decline Liam’s suggestion that he attend his ‘new year shinding’ upon being invited over Facebook. Just as he was about to pop up to Liam on messenger, firstly to inform him that arranging Facebook events during work time was not allowed, secondly to tell him that the 29th was hardly an appropriate day to send out an invitation to a party that would be held on the 31st, and lastly, to politely tell him that no, he did not wish to go, Liam walked into his office uninvited.

“So, I see you got the notification.” Liam stated, nodding his head towards the Facebook tab open on Louis’ work tablet.

Louis placed the tablet on his desk, meeting Liam’s eyes. “It’s a bit short notice, don’t you think?” He asked the boy standing by the plant pot in the corner of the room, just by the door that led into Nick’s work space.

“It’s an annual thing, my new year’s party. Surely you’ve heard stories around the office mate? I just created the event because I’d been asked at least twelve times if it was happening this year, and wanted an easy way to confirm it to everyone that yes, it is.” He explained to Louis, smiling.

“I haven’t heard a thing.” Louis replied. “And thanks for the offer Li, but I’m not really feeling up to it.”

Liam sighed, but didn’t lose the look of hope that was painted across his face. “Louis, you don’t really have a choice. You’re coming.”

Louis shook his head. “No, Liam. I’m not.”

“Nick and I went out this morning and made sure that a certain somebody would be in attendance at my party, and we only did it for you. I mean, not that Harry isn’t a lovely lad-“

“Wait, Harry’s coming?” Louis interrupted, his eyes widening as he heard what Liam had said.

Liam settled down into the chair on the opposite side of Louis’ desk, playing with Louis’ stapler and rustling the stack of paperwork that sat on the corner, obviously trying to annoy Louis, but he just continued to stare at Liam with expectancy. Liam laughed. “Yes. Well, he said he would. So I really think it would be impolite of you not to turn up, especially since you have no other plans.”

“Oh Liam how the fuck did you get him to agree to it? I thought he hated me.” Louis marvelled, grinning at friend and colleague with such thankfulness Liam thought his smile was going to rip in half.

“He actually didn’t take much convincing.”

Louis sat back, elated. Harry had agreed to come to a party that he knew Louis would be at. Harry wanted to see him. Harry was going to give him a second chance. It was fucking wonderful.

*

Harry had to constantly remind himself that it was only a few more hours. He didn’t need to ring Louis, or go round to his flat, declare his new found love for the boy, because it was now only a few hours before he would find him at Liam’s party. Then he could tell Louis everything.

It was odd. Harry’s past-self had always seen a future where his mother would be around to hear his stories of him falling in love, properly, for the first time. Harry had always imagined how he would be able to sit down with his Mum around their breakfast bar, and tell her how he’d thought he’d found him, the person he was meant to be with. Harry didn’t use the word love lightly; it wasn’t just a term you could throw around in hopes it wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. His Mum’s love for him and Gemma, even after he came out to her, had taught him that.

So really, when he finally came to terms with the fact that he had only been so bothered by what he saw Louis doing with Nick at the office party because, honestly, he loved him, Harry was surprisingly not saddened by the fact his Mum wasn’t there for him to tell her. Unlike his recent heartbreak, it didn’t make him long for her presence. No, instead it made him extremely happy, knowing that somewhere, Anne would be watching each moment that passed by, probably having realised the minute she saw Harry and Louis met that this one was it, the one who mended Harry, who all others would probably see as broken beyond repair. Instead of hearing it all from Harry’s perspective, Anne was most likely perched on a cloud drinking a glass of wine, watching her son’s life as though it was a movie. She would get to feel the joy that Harry felt upon discovering his feelings for Louis, because she would see every moment, every step.

“I hope you don’t see everything, Mum.” Harry laughed to himself as he pulled on a dress shirt in front of the mirror in his bedroom. He figured his choice of clothing tonight was a little more sophisticated that his regular choice of band shirts and skinny jeans. Although, he did still find himself changing out of the looser jeans he had opted for earlier and pulling on his favourite, now well-worn and ripped pair of black skinnies.

It was ten thirty, and he was still yet to pluck up the courage to leave the shop. It’s a pretty big thing, telling somebody you loved them. Telling someone you love them when you’ve only known one another for little more than a month makes it even bigger, and as 2015 grew closer and closer, Harry literally had to force himself to dial the number for a taxi.

Liam’s was packed to say the least. Harry didn’t recognise a single face. Not one person he had met ten days before was to be seen among the crowd that had packed out Liam’s outer-city flat. He decided the best place to start would be the kitchen, and probably spent around fifteen minutes wandering the rooms until he finally stumbled into the well lit room where Liam most likely prepared very little food.

“Harry, is that you?” He heard a male voice question. He would have turned around with much more hope than he did if the voice had been just a few pitches higher, but he knew it didn’t belong to Louis.

Once he did turn around, standing in front of him was Zayn, a rather drunk version of Zayn at that. He was grinning at Harry.

“So, does this mean you and Louis are back on? I didn’t know he’d brought you here tonight.” Zayn slurred, taking a large gulp from his shady looking drink.

“Actually, he didn’t bring me here. I haven’t seen him since, you know.” Harry replied.

Zayn looked forlorn for Harry, pouting. “Oh! I’m sorry to hear that.” He said, stumbling to the left.

Harry just reached out a hand to steady Zayn. “No, I mean, I’m here to talk to him.”

“That’s so romantic!” Zayn exclaimed. “Now if you don’t mind, I think I’m just going-” Zayn didn’t make it to the end of his sentence before he was vomiting onto the ground between their feet, the sounds alone making Harry want to hurl himself, sober or not. Once Zayn had finished, he looked up, a lazy smile spread across his face. “Didn’t see that one coming. Sorry.” He hiccuped, before giving Harry hug he so dearly did not want a wandering back into the party.

Harry giggled a little before setting off to find Louis again. Zayn had been no help at all, but he had still provided Harry with quite a bit of amusement. He definitely didn’t have the raven haired boy down as a chunderer, and certainly not one who would just leave the remains of his stomach for somebody else to clear up.

After checking the living room, kitchen and tiny dining room, Louis was still nowhere to be found. Harry had seen at least five different characters from the office party: Niall hugging him from behind, drunk out of his mind, Ben and Josh weren’t hard to spot either, the two of them dancing about on Liam’s coffee table to sia’s chandelier. Bryony and Stan offered him a drink the minute they saw him, telling him how happy Louis would be that he turned up, but still offering no help as to the older man’s whereabouts.

It was getting closer to midnight, and Harry began to feel scared he was going to enter the New Year having not told Louis what he felt for him. Finally, at 11:45, when he was beginning to grow tired of searching Liam’s flat, when he was quite intoxicated from the multiple drinks Bryony had insisted he have, and when he thought he might have to give up, someone told him where Louis was.

Liam was standing with Sophia, Gabrielle and Nick, who much to Harry’s surprise, had been snogging Liam when he wandered over. The two pulled apart, laughing, but seemed to grow serious the minute they spotted Harry looking so distressed.

“Harry, I’m glad you came, what’s up? Where’s Louis?” Liam asked.

“That’s what I want you to tell me! This place is massive, I can’t find him and it’s almost midnight!”

Liam looked lost, but it was Sophia who spoke up. “He’s with Lou on the balcony having a smoke right now. I was with them earlier.” She told Harry softly, pointing towards the back room that Harry had only skimmed through once. Harry breathed a huge sigh of relief, thanking Sophia quickly before running through to the back room. He spotted the billowing curtains straight away, and made his way through the seemingly endless lot of party-goers to the sliding doors that led to Liam’s balcony.

“Ten to. I don’t think he’s coming Lou.” Harry heard the voice he had been wanting to hear all day say through the gap in the door. He could smell the smoke that drifted from their cigarettes, and from the angle he was stood, he could see Lou’s blonde hair standing out against the black sky.

“He might Louis.” Lou replied, stubbing out her cigarette and throwing it over the edge. “It’s a bit nippy. I’m going in.” She said, rubbing Louis’ back and turning towards the door. Harry decided that there was no use in leaving it any longer, and allowed Lou to renter the home without seeing him before stepping out onto the balcony.

“I thought you were going in. You don’t want to turn into a chain-smoker.” Louis said without turning around, clearly thinking it was Lou re-joining him on the concrete structure.

“I don’t even smoke.” Harry replied, walking forwards and standing next to Louis. The older boy turned towards him, shocked and joyous that Harry had finally turned up.

“You came.” Louis stated.

Harry smiled. “I’ve been here for over an hour. You can hide, my friend.” He told Louis.

Louis instantly began apologising, “I’m so sorry Harry, for everything. Nick and I. We’re not together I promise. I mean we fucked once, but that was before I even met you, when I just got here, and we’ve been nothing since, I really do promise.... I know we weren’t exclusive but I could have never - wouldn’t have ever, you know, done anything.”

Harry let Louis finish, remaining silent until the older boy had stopped talking. “I know.” He said simply once Louis had quietened, meeting Louis’ cerulean eyes. “I overreacted, I’m sorry too.”

Louis seemed to brighten, the burning cigarette in his right hand long forgotten as he threw his hands around Harry and chucked it over the balcony. “So, we’re friends?”

Harry muzzled into Louis shoulder. He liked it, a new sense of home, he thought. “You know I want to be so much more than that Louis.”

“You do?” Louis asked. “Because I would never push you if you didn’t feel comfortable.” He said sincerely, pulling away from Harry but keeping a hold on his upper arms, searching Harry’s eyes for any sign of uncertainty.

“Do you think I let just anyone kiss me?” Harry laughed, before continuing on, knowing he was building up to his confession. “I couldn’t leave the house till like half ten, you know. I was so nervous. Because I realised something the other day. I was being so silly by ignoring you over something as trivial as what happened with Nick Louis, I’m sorry.”

Louis glided his fingers down Harry’s bare forearm, creating goose bumps in his wake. “What is it you realised?” He questioned, his tone not pushing Harry to answer, simply curious.

“I know they say it takes time, that like, you don’t just realise straight away, that sometimes it can take years, but like, you… I’ve never felt like this around anyone, and I at least think that, maybe,”

“Harry, what are you talking about?” Louis interjected, confused by Harry’s babbling.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Harry finally breathed, feeling the weight of his admittance instantly remove itself from his chest and shoulders.

“You, you do?” Louis asked, taken aback.

Harry just nodded.

Louis seemed to freeze for a moment, his thoughts swimming so fast around his head that he was unable to form a coherent sentence, but once he got some sense back, he knew exactly what to do, and surged forward, connecting his lips with Harry’s in what he hoped was an agreement. He loved Harry too. He loved Harry so much, and he didn’t understand how it had taken Harry telling him to see it.

“I think I'm falling in love with you too.” Louis confessed gently. The two of them were both quiet for a moment, simply looking at each other with adoration. But they both looked over at the house when the loud shouts of a countdown could suddenly be heard from beyond the curtains and from all over the city. “Be my midnight kiss?”

“My pleasure.” Harry replied, before joining in with the rowdy chanting. “THIRTY! TWENTY NINE! TWENTY EIGHT…”

*

After celebrating the start of 2015 with Louis’ tongue down his throat, nearing frost bite on the balcony, with fireworks erupting from the city in the background, Harry couldn’t have been more content. Once they finally tore apart, Louis took his new boyfriend’s hand in his own, and the two of them returned to the party, their cheeks rosy and hands cold to touch.

They took part in a singing of Auld Lang Syne with their arms crisscrossed that somehow led to Sophia getting her foot stuck in one of Liam’s vases (later having to be removed by the fire brigade), Louis introduced Harry to several more work colleagues, and they finished the night off by doing a line of shots along with Zayn and Niall, who had basically pounced on one another when the clock struck twelve, and were soon arranging to both go back to Niall’s home.

“They’re more than likely going to fuck.” Louis had said simply, winking at Harry, who was drunk with alcohol and love. Not long after, Harry and Louis stumbled into a taxi that Liam somehow managed to arrange and set off back to Harry’s shop.

Even on the ride home, the two of them struggled to keep their hands off one another. Louis was straddled over Harry, and it would have been a miracle if they’d have both been fully dressed by the time the disgruntled taxi driver finally arrived at Harry’s home. Louis chucked a twenty at the man, hoping it was enough. He grabbed Harry’s coat and scarf that he had removed during their heated snogging session, and Harry tried to open the door as fast as he could, pulling Louis inside with him.

Once they were inside, Louis acted fast. Pushing Harry up against the exposed brick and kissing him, unable to tell Harry everything he wanted to tell him with just words. Harry grunted, gripping on to Louis’ hipbones tightly, pulling the man impossibly closer towards him. Harry had experienced such heat before, but this was different – he and Louis were fueled by love and a mutual respect for one another. Harry felt fireworks much like they had seen from the balcony spurt through his body; it was magical. 

Harry pushed Louis away, panting. “Want you to fuck me.” He said with clarity, breathing hard. Louis’ eyes widened, shocked that he was hearing such dirty words slip from Harry’s mouth. 

“You sure?” Louis asked, lifting his hand into Harry’s shirt and stroking the bar skin of his side. 

“Yes.” Harry all but whined, gripping onto Louis and pulling him towards the back of the shop, where he knew he had once left some supplies after an episode with Danny. Hopefully, nothing would be out of date. After all, it had been awhile. 

But Harry hadn’t needed to worry, because once he’d been hitched up onto the mdf counter in the back room, knocking over a mug of tea and everything else that had been placed there, Louis seemed to produce a condom and lube from his pocket. 

“Bit presumptuous, carrying them around?” Harry said as he watched Louis place them to the side, only just able to see what was going on due to the light that was streaming from the window. 

Harry soon realised that he hadn’t turned the radio off when he’d left earlier, and ‘Can’t Fight This Feeling’ was streaming quietly from its speakers. Louis, on the other hand, either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care. 

“Better safe than sorry?” Louis replied, shrugging at Harry. And that was the end of the conversation. 

Whilst the two of them carried on kissing, Harry with his legs wrapped around Louis’ torso and Louis with his hands steadying him on the counter, they struggled to remove one another’s clothes, finally managing to strip down to just their boxers before they were rutting against one another, both hard, both needy. 

“Now Louis.” Harry growled, palming at the older boy’s dick through the thin fabric that was covering it. Louis whined in response, not able to say much with a hand on his dick, especially not Harry’s hand. 

“Do I need to…” He breathed heavy trying to talk whilst Harry carried on teasing him with short kisses and little licks on his bare neck. “How long has it been?”   
“Prep me?” Harry asked quickly, to which Louis nodded. “Yeah, yeah you do.” 

Louis groaned, already having to try his best to stay sane with the thought of Harry losing all control with Louis’ fingers inside of him. “Fuck. Right.” He managed to say. “Lay down.” He ordered Harry. He climbed up onto the table with Harry, learning straight away that this would not be the most comfortable sex he was ever going to have. But obviously, it would be the most beautiful, because it was Harry. 

He removed Harry’s boxers and reveled in the sight before him. Harry was something else, more stunning and exquisite than the constellations and the radiant stars that they had sighted the night of their first kiss. He was devastatingly dazzling and utterly sensational. “You’re spectacular.” He whispered soft as a sun shower to the boy below him.   
Harry looked delighted, pausing for a moment and meeting Louis’ eyes. “You too.” He replied. “Now I’m getting impatient.”

Louis knew when to do what he was told, and now was definitely one of those times. This was better than home, with Harry was where Louis wanted to be.   
Louis put some of the lube he had brought on his forefingers, aware that Harry was closely studying his every move, willing for him to go faster. He should have known that the drunken boy he had brought home would not be interested in any form of foreplay, only wanting to make love to the man he had discovered his strong feelings for just days before. 

Harry inhaled deeply and said something completely incoherent and Louis touched him, and the minute that Louis’ fingers were working their way inside of Harry, one by one opening him up, Harry was moaning lowly, unable to speak. 

Louis could tell when he hit Harry’s prostate, as the boy writhed below him, relaxing into the sensation hand shouting an expletive so loud Louis was sure Harry’s neighbours might hear. He worked Harry open until he had three fingers inside and the boy’s thighs were quivering. “There, Louis,” Harry hissed, moving slightly himself so that the fingers that were scissoring inside of Harry hit that spot once again. “Fuck!” 

“You ready?” Louis asked carefully, placing a soft kiss on Harry’s stomach and looking up at the boy from below his eyelashes. Harry had to stop himself from taking a grip on his cock and just finishing himself off right there, with the image of Louis above him. Instead, he nodded, fumbling around behind him until he got his hand on the condom, passing the small packet to Louis. 

Louis wasted no time in covering his dick with the condom, and Harry gasped as he watched Louis stroke, letting out a pathetic whine as Louis lined himself up and started to, slowly, move inside of him. 

Once again, Harry was reminded of just how different it was with Louis. The affection and tenderness that shone in Louis’ eyes told Harry that he was safe, that this man wanted to stick around just as much as Harry wanted him to. Louis pressed sloppy, wet mouthed kisses to his cheek and neck, moaning lightly as he moved his hips. Harry didn’t need to talk, his breathless encouragements told Louis exactly what he wanted, and the older man gained speed, setting a steady pace at an angle that left the boy of them whining.

“Shit Harry,” Louis gasped in between thrusts, trying his best to keep his eyes open so that he could watch Harry fall apart beneath him. Harry’s hands, which were digging into the desk on either side of his body, were empty. Louis took one of them with one of his own hands that were braced on either side of Harry’s head, guiding it to Harry’s dick, to which Harry responded with a loud shout of Louis’ name. 

Harry lazily stoked himself in time with Louis’ movement, but Louis could tell Harry was nearly there, his breath becoming ragged. “M close.” He murmured against Harry’s neck. It was only a short moment before Harry arched his back as he came in streaks across their stomachs, Louis continued to move through his own orgasm, freezing as he finally came himself. Harry pulled Louis’ neck down with the hand that wasn’t covered, and forced Louis to kiss him once again, He let out a sad sigh as Louis pulled out of him. 

“Harry,” Louis began, but Harry placed a finger on his lips, staring up at him, the older man who was now in his amorous embrace. 

“Happy New Year, Louis.” Harry said quietly, a smirk in his eyes. 

Louis just lay down lazily next to Harry, allowing the boy to make himself comfortable on him. “Did we just have sex in the back room of your shop?”

“We did.” Harry replied, smiling. His head was lay stationary on Louis’ chest whilst the two of them, both naked, were spread out across the table that was usually filled with flowers. A mug was on the ground. When Harry had knocked it off earlier he had sent tea waves washing across the wooden floor. Harry also took notice of the set of unclipped daisies that they had accidentally sent on a journey to the wood. Now some were sodden with tea, but he didn’t care. 

The only sounds in the room were the simultaneous breathing from the two men along with the quiet, dulcet tones of Phil Collins. Louis didn’t think ‘In the Air Tonight’ was entirely appropriate for post sex cuddling, but when both he and Harry lifted their hands up for the drumming part, and whacked the air in perfect unison, they fell into a fit of hysterical giggles and any strange air in the atmosphere was gone. They were content in that moment and he hoped, for quite some time to come.

Fin


End file.
